Isle Problems: Behind the Scenes
by AshLandWriter
Summary: Everyone has their share of problems, and these four are no different. Read to find out what Evie fears, what Carlos likes, what Jay wants, and why Mal started to punish herself in the first place, along with MUCH, MUCH MORE! After all, they aren't the only ones with problems. Ships include: Bal, Malvie, and Jaylos. Warning: contains self-harm, domestic violence,and substance abuse
1. Mal's Punishment

**About this Fic** :

 **1** ) This fanfiction contains controversial and tough topics: self-harm and depression, anxiety and alcoholism/substance abuse, domestic violence and psychological abuse, and, of course, an eating disorder (anorexia) although I don't think it will be covered as much as in my other fics. Now. This may be a **spoiler** , but this fanfiction also contains mature topics such as rape and masochism. Bringing up any of the above topics are meant to spread awareness and is not at all meant to glamorize the situation or dehumanize the people who suffer through these things.

 **2** ) I have not yet written a dream sequence for this fic. I know some of you are going to love that. For those who don't... well, there's plenty of flashbacks to make up for it, and towards the end a character goes through something that could easily be mistaken for schizophrenia... you know, that is if you don't believe in witches and the spiritual connections they can make. (Since the Descendants movie takes place in a magical world, the witch's characteristics are also somewhat magical and isn't really based on real life witches... just so you know and don't take offense to the inaccuracy, because I know some of you know by now that I try to do as much research as I can to be as accurate and non-offensive as I can be.)

 **3** ) The fanfiction will start off centering around the four main characters from the movie (Evie, Mal, Carlos, and Jay), but as you go further into the story Ben will also have his own "little" story-line and then sprinkling on and off until the surprise ending so does his mother. (Oh. By the way, did I mention I started to write the scenes out of order? Yeah. So, this isn't just me saying there's a surprise towards the end. Assuming you don't catch on quickly (God. That sounds like an awful thing to say to your viewers, but I don't know how else to put it.) then you should be at least a little surprised towards the end... and if you're not, then at least you will be left heartbroken... I'm such a horrible person. But that's why you love me, isn't it?

* * *

"I'll get better," Mal remembers saying as she sits on the edge of the faded tub, but the truth is she knows she will never meet her mother's expectations. She contemplates this, her head knelt down and her tired eyes unmoving. It takes a lot out of her to keep up the act, because the problem is the things she does, the things her mother would even slightly approve of, are no mere pranks or fun mischief. She moves her fingers until the light reflects off of the dull blade. She could have stayed content with spreading her street art all across the city, but the action seems to only displease her mother. So, even though it is fun, full of expression, and seems to be the only thing to relax her ever so slightly, Mal would never mention it to her mother again.

Not that her mother wouldn't find out, even if she hardly has enough time to do it anymore. No. She has to spend her time stealing candy from babies. Mal presses the blade hard against her thigh and forces it towards her, red starting to bead through the cut; however, it's not nearly good enough. All of the people who have suffered by her hand, like that little girl she had given poison ivy shampoo to just yesterday— she'd completely forgotten all about that one. Mal slowly shakes her head. What else had she forgotten about? She takes in a deep breath and holds it, before she forces the blade down her leg five more times even harder than before. The result is immediate and exactly what she had deserved, the blood proof that these cuts are real and not just mere scratches as the first one had been.

"Mal!"

Mal jumps slightly, taking in a deep breath as she looks toward the door, but she lets that same breath out in relief when she finds her privacy remains intact. "I'm taking a bath, Mother!"

"Now. There's no need to get annoyed girly. I'm just letting you know that your little friend has arrived for that slumber party of yours."

Mal places a hand to her head. What else could she possibly forget? "Tell her I will be out in fifteen minutes."

"Or," her mother prompts, "you could just finish up and come out to tell her yourself."

"Mother!" Mal seethes. "I literally just got in here. Please! Just tell her!"

"Alright. Alright," her Mother calmly responds. "Geeze pumpkin, you've got to lighten up. Live a little."

"Mother," Mal growls in warning.

"Alright. I'm leaving." There's a slight pause, and Mal feels a bit sick when she hears the smile in her mother's voice. "Take all the time you need."

Mal rolls her eyes. _As if I'd be doing that right now_. She looks back down at the bloody blade and frowns even more so than before. Her mother has no idea, but how could she? Mal's never thought of herself as much of an actress, her voice having the undertone of the typical lying girl. _But, of course, someone would have to be observant to notice that, and all my mother ever seems to observe is herself_. She lays the blade down beside her, and as she stares at it she still can't believe it. How did that thought first occur to her? When did it first begin? She shakes her head, too much filling her brain at the moment to remember anything. These past few years— everything's just a blur… but none of it matters. _The past is the past._

She spins around and dunks her feet into the lukewarm water, before she slowly moves down into the dingy white tub. Usually this is the best part of her week, but Mal immediately finds herself disappointed. It's not nearly hot enough, not enough to keep her heat up for the rest of the week. She looks up in annoyance. It's not the first time her mother has taken too many baths to leave any hot water for her. _It's like she wants me to die._ Mal finds her eyes back on the blade, before she sits up and takes it. She lowers it into the water and cleans it. The water is already turning into a pale pink from her cuts, so she might as well do this as well.

Mal wouldn't admit it, but somewhere deep inside she knows. There's her thoughts, there's the knowledge that you're about to make that thought, and then before you have that knowledge there's just this feeling or sense. This sense tells her that she's spending too much time cleaning that object, but all she can do is picture it. Sometimes she wonders how far she could go. At what point does it go too far? If she were to continue punishing herself in this way, and if she were to continue to make sure the punishment fits her deed, then could there ever become a point that would be too far, a point at which she could die?

"Mal?"

Mal looks up at the door, hearing Evie's voice. "Yeah." She finds her voice to be calm, almost sad. _No. It is sad, I think. Is it? How does sad feel like?_ On the Isle sadness is just another emotion considered to be weakness, so it's not like anyone has ever admitted to it; therefore, Mal has nothing to compare this empty, contemplative state with.

"Would you rather have cinnamon oat squares or banana bread?"

"The oat squares will be fine," Mal decides softly.

"Okay," Evie responds in the same softness Mal had used, and Mal can hear her shifting feet as if contemplating to leave. "And Mal?"

"Yeah," she says again.

Evie's nervousness seems to stop as it becomes quiet, but her voice still questions in hesitated concern, "Are you okay in there?"

"Yeah. Of course," Mal hears herself answer in that obvious lying girl tone of hers.

She can almost hear Evie nod sadly, "That's what I thought." before she leaves the bathroom door, crossing the squeaky floor and exiting down the echoic, spiral staircase. Of course she knows, but they've never spoken a single word about it.

Mal sets the razor blade back on the bath's edge, before she lies back down and remembers the day she suspects Evie found out. She had woken up later than her companion had, and as the day before they'd all ventured through the woods, of course Evie would want to clean the clothes she and her had changed out of the night before. When Mal walked into the kitchen that morning she had felt a sudden dread and panicked, "What are you doing!"

Evie looked at her like she was crazy, "Um. Washing our clothes." She laughed, and Mal could only walk forward slowly before sitting down next to her friend and the laundry tub.

"So, how's it going?"

She remembers how her voice slightly shook, but apparently Evie hadn't noticed. She said it was going fine, but that's when her thin eyebrows crunched up in confusion. Mal looked down at what she had seen, and she finds her mouth drop just slightly at the sight of dried blood lines on her leggings. "Mal. What's this?" Her voice was almost accusing but also filled with concern; however, Mal couldn't speak. This was exactly what she'd feared. She was vulnerable now. Her friend would for sure see her as nothing but weak now. "Mal. Is this blood?"

Mal nervously came up with an excuse and coughed, "Could be. Things can get rough on the Isle." She remembers smiling widely, "You know what? It could have been from those small branches we had to keep walking through yesterday." She looked back down at the vertical lines, "Yeah. That must be it." but it didn't occur to her until afterwards that the lines would have been horizontal if that were the case.

Evie commented, "I wish you would have told me. Peroxide should have been used. I don't know if it will come out now."

"Oh. Well, it doesn't matter," Mal reasoned. "It's on the inside, so it can't be seen."

Evie nodded, "And since it's under where the skirt would be, it won't matter even if it could be." and seemed to have put it together.

Mal takes a deep breath, sits up, and stretches forward, before she grabs hold of her shampoo and conditioner and the pitcher. She sets the hair products next to the blade, before she fills up the pitcher with water from the tub's facet. The first time is to get her hair wet, the second time is to rinse the shampoo out, and the third time is for the conditioner. She wouldn't bother with clawing the dead skin off from herself tonight. That kind of thing is always easier with showers, which she could probably find five minutes for in the next day or two.


	2. Evie's Fear

"So, tell me," asks Maleficent, "these cinnamon oat squares consist of what exactly?"

Evie slightly nods as she looks up in thought, "Cinnamon, oats, sugar, and milk or water depending on what's available."

"That's it?" She seems shocked.

"Well, it depends," comments Evie. "It's not like we're in Auridon, so we need to use what we have. I've done this same recipe with pancake mix and garlic powder. Our survival all depends on how well we can improvise."

"Or on how well we can scrounge up scraps," the evil fairy complains. "I used to be able to eat an entire knight whole, but now I'm so starved I can't even summon up my dragon form."

"Ah. That's right," Evie empathizes. "You're a meat eater. The rations they send here must be so hard on you. I know whenever I walk past that stall it always seems to be empty."

"That's because she takes everything from there," Mal interrupts when she walks through the kitchen door. "Seriously, Mother. We do have some money. Do you have to hypnotize him every time he gets a shipment? He has a family too, you know."

"Oh, Mal," Maleficent pities, "where's your sense of survival?"

Evie notices Mal's eyes widen in annoyance as she sits on the stool behind the island counters, "I suspect it went with all that hot water you stole from me. Again!"

Her mother waves the response away, "Don't be so dramatic, darling."

"I'm not being dramatic." Evie watches as Mal crosses her arms. "I'm just cold."

"Then wear a jacket," Maleficent reasons.

Evie looks at the loose, purple tank top Mal wears, but she still finds her mother's words to be ridiculous. Apparently so does Mal, as she laughs, "Yeah. Because that helps."

"You don't have to believe me," Maleficent calmly responds, "but one day you will realize that whatever heat you do manage to get can be retained longer with one."

Mal scoffs, "Then why don't you wear a jacket?"

"Oh. It's just not fashionably sensible, darling." Mal's mouth drops, and Evie doesn't blame her, as one of her favorite outfits actually contains a jacket. "As far as being cold goes, just be grateful you're young. You would not believe how hard it is to get warm once you reach my age. It's just— well, let's just say it can be a nightmare."

Evie watches Mal about to open her mouth again, so she interrupts, "Mal. It should be done by now. Would you like to take it out?"

Mal lets out the breath she was about to use to continue the conversation, and she seems to forget about it completely as she smiles and walks over to the oven, "No need to ask, Evie. I know we don't have any mittens for you to use." When she pulls it out her eyes narrow in question, "What would you have done if my bath took longer than expected?"

Evie smiles, "Mal, it already took longer than expected."

"Oh." Mal smiles as well when she sets the pan on the counter, but she doesn't let go of it. "This is so good."

Her mother stares at the food inside the pan, "I don't see how you can survive off of that bird food. I'd be absolutely starved."

Mal slightly rolls her eyes, "It's not supposed to fulfill hunger, Mother. I eat it to keep my weight up." She looks over her mother bitterly, "Maybe you should try it some time." before she looks back at the food. "Besides, when Evie makes things it tastes good, and I trust that."

"Whatever you say, dearie." Maleficent begins to strut away, "I'm going out. You girls have fun. I expect you in bed by midnight."

"But Mother," Mal calls.

After the lack of response Evie raises an eyebrow, "I thought you normally stay up until three."

"She doesn't like it when I'm mean to her," Mal mutters, but then she smiles again. "You can cut it now. I'll grab the syrup."

Evie finds a knife in the drawer, before she begins cutting the oats into perfect squares. "Damn it."

"What?" Mal turns around. "You didn't cut yourself, did you?"

Evie grunts a laugh, "No. It's just… I messed up."

Mal comes over and looks at the squares, "I don't see any issues."

"No. See. That line, there," Evie points. "It's all crooked." She places both hands to her face to hide the tears that burn in her eyes. "My mom—"

"Your mom isn't here," Mal stresses. "And no one's going to say anything. It's fine."

"Doesn't matter," Evie insists. "If I mess up here, then I can mess up anywhere, and if that happens—"

"E!" Mal grabs hold of Evie's shoulder. "Calm down."

"I'm such a failure," Evie cries.

"You're not a failure," Mal stresses as she brings her hand up to her cheek in attempt to wipe the tears away; however, even more fall.

"But I am. I am. I'm a—" She had shut her eyes when her sight became too blurry from crying, but then suddenly she could feel something stop her words. It's soft, it's cold, it's— Mal. _But no. It can't be._ She won't let herself believe it, and yet she wishes it were true; however, she dares not open her eyes, because she fears it may only be in her mind. It could just be in her head, but then when she feels the lips release she knows it's her last chance to know.

When she opens her eyes Mal comments, "You're not a failure. You're a princess, and princesses don't cry." She smiles sweetly as she wipes away the remnants of the tears, "I hate to see you cry."

Evie opens her mouth before speaking. This just had to be a dream. "You kissed me."

"Yeah. Sorry." Mal lets go of her, "I know I'm not supposed to, but I had to get you to stop. After everything else, I just didn't know what to do."

"Oh." Evie holds onto her arm. _I should have known it was too good to be true._

Mal goes over to a cupboard to take out a couple plates and bowls, "But anyway, it's time for dinner."

"Oh! Um," Evie speaks up but then grows quiet.

"What is it E?" Mal questions as she brings the dishes to the counter.

"I'm not really hungry," Evie excuses. "I just made it for you."

Mal laughs, "Come on. You can't be telling me you cooked something with no intention of eating any of it."

"Why not?" Evie mumbles. "I do it all the time."

Mal's smile falters in confusion, "A chef not sampling their own cooking is like a fashion designer not wearing their own clothes. It just doesn't happen." When Evie stares down Mal takes a step closer, "How would something like that even happen?"

"I like to cook," Evie states. "No. I love to cook." She lifts her head up and smiles, but it doesn't take long for it to falter.

Mal sees her friend's eyes have glossed over into blank thoughts, so she takes a step closer, "But?"

Evie looks at her and slightly laughs, "But princesses are beautiful, and if you're not skinny, then you're not beautiful." She gulps, feeling the tears burning her eyes again, and when she speaks she hears her voice squeak into a higher pitch, "I can cook, I can look; however, I cannot touch, I cannot taste."

Mal shuts her eyes for a moment as she shakes her head, "Evie. No. Just no. That's absurd." Evie attempts to laugh, because no matter how absurd it had sounded to her friend, it doesn't make it any less true; however, instead of a laugh she heaves into uncontrollable tears. "Evie. Look at me." She feels Mal's hand back on her arm, but even though her breaths slow in calmness she's unable to look at her friend— her crush. Because she would do anything for her, and yet she could not fulfil her simple desire to not see her cry. "E! Look at me." She complies, but she's a mess and she knows it. She knows no one would want a mess like her. "You're already skinny, and even if you weren't—" Mal sadly smiles, "You're already so beautiful."

Evie wants to believe it, but as she knows she would do anything for Mal, she also knows that Mal would do almost anything for her. So, she's lying. She has to be. She just wants to make her feel better, because Evie knows her words aren't true. She owns a scale, a tape measure, and her mother makes her take measurements often. _And those last measurements._ Evie huffs a laugh, "Skinny. Right." She stares distrustingly into Mal's eyes, "Then why did I gain two pounds?" There. She said it. _I was hoping to keep it a secret, but what am I kidding? She probably saw the difference the second she saw me. That's why she kissed me. It was out of pity. She felt sorry for me. She knew I would never meet my mom's expectation to marry a prince, and she knew no one else would have me either. That's why—_

"E," Mal's jaw drops open in shock. "Two pounds? Really? That's just water."

Evie huffs again and lowers her eyes in thought, "My mom doesn't seem to think so." She looks back up and stares blankly at her friend, "I'm not allowed to eat until I get it off."

"Your mother again, Evie?" Mal is clearly annoyed, but Evie has no energy to defend what she knows to be true: her mom is right about this. She is fat, and it just seems to get harder and harder to keep it off no matter how hard she tries. "Your mom isn't here. You don't have to worry about her. You don't have to do what she says."

"She'll know," Evie slowly lets out in a loud manner. At last Mal is quiet, and Evie begins to think it's over; however, Mal speaks again, albeit this time softer and more considerate.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?"

Evie feels the corners of her mouth lift, because for some reason she finds the fact she's about to speak to be kind of funny, even though it isn't. "Only a couple days."

"Only?" Mal responds in shock.

Evie looks away from Mal, not wanting to think too much about it, before her eyes lie upon the distraction, "It's going to get cold. You should have some while it's still warm."

Mal looks over at the cinnamon oat squares, "Right."

Evie sits on a stool opposite of Mal, and she watches as Mal piles the squares high onto the plate. _I guess eating so much doesn't bother someone who can't really get full._ She begins to feel a little envious of her crush, just of how the fat in her body seemed to always distribute the exact right amounts to the exact right places. _If only my body could do that._ She watches as Mal fills a bowl with maple syrup, and suddenly the smells of everything hits her. Her stomach rumbles, and she takes a deep breath as the dizzying sensation takes hold.

Mal looks guiltily between her food and her friend, before she questions, "Are you sure you can't have any?"

Evie slowly nods, "Just continue. Food may fulfil my hunger, but it never truly satisfies me." She looks back down at the food, "I will enjoy watching you eat more than if I were to eat it myself." She smiles. "Don't forget to tell me how it is. My cooking can always get better."

Mal nods, "Don't worry. I will." but after a few bites she stops. "I just need to make sure you know… I don't see you as weak. The crying you did—" Mal looks away for a moment, "After not eating for this long, you must be absolutely exhausted." Evie opens her mouth to speak, but Mal puts her hand up. "Even if you're used to it, it must really take a toll on your body and your mind." She nervously rubs her hands together, and even when they stop all she can do is stare down at them, "Personally, I know that when I'm worn out I can't think." Mal looks back up, "And sometimes when I'm exhausted, which is pretty much all the time, I can get a little emotional too. It's normal, and I need you to know that I understand. You're not weak. Okay?"

Evie looks down, not wanting to see Mal's face if what she fears actually turns out to be true, "If you don't see me as weak, does that also mean you don't take pity on me? I mean, you didn't just kiss me because I'm fat and you knew I wouldn't find anyone else, did you?" Whatever time passes, it feels like an eternity to Evie. _It's true, isn't it? She's not responding, because she doesn't want to admit that it's true._ She looks up, waiting for it to be said, but instead all she sees is Mal crying.

"God, E. You're not fat. How can you not see that?" Evie looks down. "You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." Mal laughs, "More beautiful than I could ever aspire to, not that I want to feel three pounds of makeup on my face every second of every day." Evie laughs, and then she feels a hand reach for hers. When she looks up Mal stares down in serious contemplation, "I kissed you, because I care about you." She squints questioningly as she looks back up at her, and her teeth are shown in unsureness, "Can you understand that?"

Evie smiles, "Yeah. I can."

"Good." Mal lets go of her hand, and Evie watches as she continues to eat.

* * *

\- Can someone remind me if terms of endearment are capitalized or not? You know, words like "honey" or "darling"... I feel like I've had to look it up a dozen times, and yet I still can't remember. I only question it now, because I thought I was writing them without capitalization but then when I went to edit this chapter they were capitalized. There's nothing better to confuse you like your own writing, huh?


	3. The Heat

"Reapplying makeup before bed?" Mal questions. "When did that start? I thought you were worried about acne and skin discoloration."

"That was my mom's old policy." Evie puts on another layer of waterproof mascara, "Now she says I'm old enough where I should be wearing it all the time. You never know when a prince is going to come in and swoop you off your feet."

"Don't you mean princess?" Mal asks from the black beanbag chair.

"No. Prince." She turns to explain, "My mom—" but then she shakes her head and turns back around to finish her makeup. "Just because. Okay?"

"Alright," Mal scoffs. "What do you want to talk about, then?"

Evie's mind turns to one thing: Mal and how she's doing, but like she doesn't want to talk about her problems, she also knows Mal won't want to talk about hers, "I don't know."

"Okay," Mal responds, before she finds herself shivering.

Evie spins the vanity chair around, "You're cold."

Mal laughs, "The heat from the pan only absorbed into my hands. What did you expect?"

She shakes her head, "Well, we can't sleep now. We need to find you someone."

Mal grins questioningly, "Can't I just have you?" She sees Evie purse her lips, as if trying her hardest to say no. "We've done it before."

"Yeah," Evie acknowledges. "But you just kissed me. Is tonight the best time for this?"

She shrugs, "Look. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do, but I'm asking." She looks off to the side, "And I do kind of need it."

Evie lets out a huge breath in defeat, "You know, I'm not exactly the warmest person, and it's been over a year since you broke up with your boyfriend—"

"Harry Hook was not my boyfriend," Mal exasperates.

"Boyfriend, boy toy, heat source, or whatever. It's been a couple years," She makes a point. "Isn't it about time you got back out there and found someone else to suck the life out of?"

Mal shakes her head, "No. I need someone I can trust. I'm not going out to grab ahold of some stranger." She whispers, "Not again."

Evie huffs, "What did he do to you anyway?"

"Doesn't matter," Mal bypasses. "Are you up for a cuddle tonight or not?"

She smirks, "You know I am."

"Okay, then," Mal breathes out, relaxing for what seems to be the first time all day.

Evie steps across the wooden floor and crawls into the purple bed. When she's all snug under the covers she entices, "Well. Aren't you going to come get me?" Mal smirks and walks over to the other side of the bed, but at the last second she jumps onto it and places a hand over where her friend's arm would be under the covers. She squeals before giggling, "You're a feisty, little dragon, aren't you?"

Mal repositions herself under the covers, wraps her arm around Evie's waist, and leans her face against her neck, "Yes, I am."

Evie calms her breaths, as she tries to adjust to the cold. _I think her touching my neck makes it worse, but darn it. Why does she have to be so cute when she does this?_

Mal whispers, "It's official. You're now my most favorite person."

"Yeah, right. What about Jay? You've been friends for like forever."

"No, actually we weren't." Mal explains, "He was my mother's friend's son. We just knew each other. We just hung out. We didn't become friends until much later."

"Still," Evie smiles. "You're only saying I'm your favorite person, because I'm one of your heat sources and you need me."

Mal inwardly laughs, "So, I need you. Shouldn't that be reassuring?"

"You love all of your heat sources," Evie mumbles. "It makes me pretty insignificant."

"And if I told you I loved you more than those hot baths I sometimes get?"

Evie huffs in disbelief, "I'd say you're lying. You probably get more heat from that bath than you ever do from me." Evie rolls her eyes when she feels a kiss on her neck. "I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" asks Mal.

"When you flirt and kiss me." Evie complains, "You're just going to tell me it meant nothing later."

"But I do love you. You must know that."

Evie lets out a breath, "I know you do. That's what makes this so hard." She holds Mal's hand. "It gives me hope that this could actually turn into something, when it never could."

It takes a moment for Mal to respond, "I'm sorry."

Evie comments in unsureness, "You never say that."

"Well, I am."

Evie tries to smile but finds herself incapable of doing so, "No. I'm sorry. You always get affectionate and frisky when you need heat, but as usual in the morning you'll be distant and unsure of things as you always are. I should just know better by now."

It takes a moment for Mal to respond, "Even if I don't love you in the morning as much as I do right now, I will still care about you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I do." She's quiet for a second, "But what happens when you meet some guy and he becomes your new heat source? Would you still care about me then?"

"Nothing could ever change the way I feel about you, E," Mal reassures. "Besides. It would never happen."

"Right. You have trust issues since Hook." She feels Mal's hand grasp hers tighter, "I would still like to know why you broke up with him. What did he do?"

Mal tries to keep a strong, steady voice, "He's not rotten to the core. He has no core." but inevitably it cracks. "That's all you need to know."

* * *

\- Sorry. You're just going to have to wait until tomorrow to see how Jay and Carlos are doing. That's it for tonight guys. Let me know what you thought.


	4. Jay's Secret

Jay sits up from the mattress and stretches his arms. It feels early, but he could be wrong. So, he puts his jeans on before walking over to the red couch to turn on the little, yellow T.V. The Auradon channel shows the time to be nearly eight in the morning. His father is going to kill him. He should have been back at the shop already with at least a handful of items. "That's right, Auradon. Hold onto your hats, because—"

Jay shuts off the T.V., not caring what the weather in that goody two shoes country is like. He puts on his shirt and grabs his leather jacket, before he begins to head out; however, Carlos's complaint stops him in his tracks. "You're not leaving, are you?"

Jay turns back towards the dingy mattress, "I have work to do. You know that."

Carlos meekly replies, "I guess I just thought that with the school transfer and everything—"

"We're not being transferred," Jay interrupts. "Do you honestly think our parents would ever let us out of their control? They cling to us. The need us. They're not just going to let us leave." He looks over the son of Cruella De Vil, "You should know that better than anyone."

"I know I should," he softly responds, glancing down at the purple and blue diamond bedding. "But for some reason I just keep hoping—"

"Hope is a dangerous thing here. If you have it, it can be taken away."

"What about you?" Carlos asks. "Are you going away?"

"Not this again." Jay takes a deep breath, "I have work to do, and so do you. We can't stay in here forever and just pretend the outside world doesn't exist."

Carlos looks away, "I don't want to leave."

Jay lets out a breath and calmly comments, "She's going to hurt you even worse if you hide out here and avoid your chores."

Carlos abruptly looks at him in shock, "Hurt me?"

He sees the fear, "Don't act stupid. I've seen you without your sleeves. For crying out loud, I've seen you shirtless. Those burns you have. I know they're from her."

"How would you know that?" Carlos defenses.

He glares at him, "I know they're from her, because you're not the kind of person who would do that to themselves."

Carlos scoffs, "Huh. Really? And what kind of person is that?"

"The kind of person that can agree to the occasional hookup without getting attached."

He shakes his head before attempting to yell, "I'm not attached." but it's a lot less convincing than he had intended. In fact, it's filled with unsureness.

Jay blankly stares at him, "If that's the case, then you won't mind if I leave."

Carlos can't help himself. It's a question he's had for a while now, "Why don't you just tell people you like guys too? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Jay turns back around, "It would be if guys could be bi, but they can't. If anyone were to know, they would just think I'm gay." He smiles, "And right now I can have any girl I want." before he grits his teeth. "Don't blow it for me."

"Don't worry," Carlos calmly responds. "I won't say a word."

"Good. Now, then." Jay points to the exit, "This time when I leave I will not be stopped. There will be no questions, and there will be no lingering looks. I am going, and I suggest for you to do the same."

"Okay. Fine," Carlos finalizes, and this time instead of watching Jay leave, he reaches for his clothes and put them on. _Jay's right. Staying here will only prolong my suffering._

* * *

When Jay walks up to the second floor of their establishment, he's surprised to find not only his father in the apartment but also Mal and Evie and their parents. "What's going on?"

"Don't know," answers Mal. "They won't tell us anything until everyone gets here."

"I bet it has to do with Auradon," Evie squeals, but then she coughs and pretends to be less excited than she really is. "Not that it's a huge deal or anything."

Jay ignores her outburst of excitement, "Why would it be about Auradon?"

"Didn't you catch the news this morning?" Mal raises an eyebrow. "Soon-to-be King Ben has decided his first order is to transfer us to his school to have a chance at a normal life or some nonsense like that, and because he knows our parents are so despicable, he's declared some royal decree that they have no say in the matter."

"Kind of sounds like kidnapping," Jay frowns.

"It's definitely kidnapping." His father places his hands on his shoulders, "I'm going to miss you Son."

"Oh. Stop your whining," Maleficent complains from her throne. "It won't be for long."

"I assume you have a plan," Mal asserts.

"All in due time, darling." She looks over at the entrance, "Does anyone know where that white haired kid and his mother are?"

Jay stares down at the floor, and Mal questions him, "Where is he?"

He lets out a breath, "Last I saw him he was at the clubhouse. He's probably home now."

"Good," Mal nods. "They should be here soon, then."

Jay doesn't speak. All he can think about is the torture is friend is probably enduring at this very moment.

* * *

\- For anyone who caught on that the scene was split in half, I'm going to let you know that when I started to write this my internet was out. So, I had to pretty much go off of memory for these first so many chapters. When I found the several mistakes, I figured it would just be easier to act as though it were on two different days. And it was a cut scene, soo... creative liberties? Personally, though, I did prefer Mal's original monologue... or, I guess, author-logue; however, I remembered the scene wrong which she references and so I had to change it.


	5. Carlos's Mother

"Carlos. Is that you?" his mother yells from the living room.

He steps in through the kitchen door, "Yes, Mother."

"It's about time," she scowls. "Where've you been this whole time? With that Jay fellow again?" Carlos doesn't answer, as he hears his mother getting the confirmation from the stuffed puppy hanging from the neck of her fur coat. "Oh. He did, did he? But he knows he's not supposed to be out with friends when he has chores to do."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean— I just thought—"

"If you're sorry, then prove it." His mother gestures for him to go over to her recliner, "Be a good boy and come here." Carlos doesn't breath, as he walks over to the smoke-filled space. The T.V. is nothing but static, as neither of the two channels the Isle receives is playing. "Good. Now kneel." He falls hopelessly to his knees. "And beg."

"Please forgive me. I'm so completely sorry for putting off my chores again."

"And?" his mother prods on.

"And that I spent time with Jay before I took care of you. You are everything to me, you are the best person in the world, and I would be nowhere without you in my life."

"What's the lesson here, boy?" his mother growls.

"To not see my friends before I'm sure you're needs are met." Carlos panics, "I shouldn't have been with Jay. I should have been here for you. I'm so terribly sorry."

"Well, it's a little too late for that, isn't it," his mother surmises. "You kids are being sent off to Auradon, and you've left me with all of the chores you've neglected to do."

 _Wait. We're going to Auradon?_ His eyes widen as he's filled with relief, but he doesn't dare speak. Instead, he pulls his sleeve up and over his shoulder. He bends his head down, shuts his eyes hard, and holds his breath, all in preparation of what would no doubt come next, but nothing could have prepared him for this. She's never done this before. There's a hot sting at the back of his neck, and the burn is even more painful than he remembers. His arms must have gotten used to it, but his neck never even saw this coming. _And she's holding it. Why is she holding it? Does she always hold it for this long, or have I done something terribly wrong?_

"You ungrateful, little rat. Do you know how many of my furs needed to be taken care of? How many of my clothes needed to be washed? I bet you didn't even get us any milk on your way here, did you?"

"I didn't know we needed any," Carlos whimpers. "I'm sorry."

"You would have known if you'd been here." She presses the cigarette harder against his skin as she talks to her coat, "Isn't that right my little precious? If he'd been here for us, then he'd have known."

Carlos watches as a few tears escape his eyes and fall onto the white rug, but he relaxes some has he senses the cigarette dying out. The only good thing about receiving all of this pain is how great it feels when it finally comes to an end. He takes in a few steady breaths and slowly lets them out. This is the best part, the only time in his life when he's truly relaxed. _It's ending. It's almost done._ It doesn't matter who he spends the rest of his day with or what they do, because nothing will ever relax him as much as this does. At this moment there is no need to feel anxious or afraid of what his mother will do, because she's already doing it and it's almost over. This feeling of security will last a couple hours— but only a couple hours. After that his anxiety and fear will flare up again, because if he messes up, another punishment will be waiting for him.

His mother takes the dead cigarette off of his neck, but it's only a moment later that she lights it back to life, "Go on. Scram. Pack. They will be expecting us."

Carlos does as he's commanded and scurries off to his room, or what he claims to be his room. There's not much here that's his. There's a vanity filled with hair products and skin cream that takes up a quarter of the room, and the closet consists of nothing but his mother's fur coats. All he has are some school textbooks like _Weird Science_ and _Evil Schemes_ , as well as some books that came from Auradon through the trash heap. He knows it's supposed to be a charity thing, but to the villains it's nothing but trash. _My mother would be very disappointed in me if she ever found out I had any of these._

He picks up his torn school backpack and dumps the contents out. He won't be needing any of this anymore. _If I were to bring my school books, Auradon would probably confiscate them anyway._ He finds three shirts, four pants, a couple sweatshirts, and some clean underwear to shove into his bag. He zips up that back pocket, before he opens up the front one and heads to the bathroom. _Toothpaste, comb, shampoo and body wash. Oh, yeah. Toothbrush. Duh._ He hurries back to his room and finds the couple socks he had also forgotten about, and that's it. That's all he has, or at least that's all he would need.

He slowly steps back through the hall and stands in the space between the kitchen and living room. "I'm ready."

* * *

\- I did listen to the first book and read part of the second, and although I don't remember it I read some comments on Youtube where people said that in the books Carlos was abused. I guess Disney figured that since hardly anyone bothers to read books that they'd be less likely to be sued but that it would be too tough of a thing to even reference in the movies... Just to be clear, unlike my Harry Potter fanfiction where I based 75% on the book and 25% on the movies, in this fanfiction I will be purely basing it off of the films and will only be referencing something from the books if it seems consistent and good enough... because I very soon realized that the books aren't very consistent with the movies. I mean, in the movies they act like they've been kind of friends for at least a couple years ("kind of friends" on the Isle probably being the only friendship you can trust), but in the books they make it so that Evie and Carlos don't even speak to Jay or Mal until like three days or a week prior to them going to Auradon. In my opinion... just a tiny bit stupid.


	6. The Villains' Scheme

"You will go, you will find the Fairy Godmother, and you will bring me back her magic wand," the evil fairy instructs as she files her nails. "Easy Pease."

"What's in it for us?" Mal asks. _I'm getting awfully tired of doing my mother's bidding with so little to show for it._

"Matching thrones. Hers and hers crowns," her mother responds, as if it were just such a stupid question to ask.

"Um." Carlos interjects, "I think she meant us." as Mal gestures to the four of them. These people have been there for her, and if they're going to be forced to participate in this deeply crazy scheme as well, then they ought to get something out of it too.

Maleficent stands from the throne and uses a finger to tell her daughter to come closer, "It's all about you and me, baby. Do you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, who doesn't?" Mal responds, but Evie can tell she's lying.

"Well, then. Get me the wand," her mother desperately instructs. "And you and I can see that and so much more." She takes a fantasizing breath, "And with that wand and my scepter, I will be able to bend both good and evil to my will!"

"Our will," the Evil Queen corrects.

"Our will. Our will," the evil fairy reassures. "And if you refuse, you're grounded for the rest of your life, missy."

"Harsh much," Evie whispers as Mal and Maleficent start their little staring contest.

"I know," Carlos comments with envy. "She is so good at being bad." Evie gives him a look. "What? She is."

Mal loses, "Fine. Whatever." and walks away.

"I win," her mother gloats.

Mal sits on the stairs of the throne's platform and watches as her friends are also given orders from their parents. _Of course Jay's and Carlos's parents don't want them to leave, but what are they kidding? With that new order none of us have a choice. All we can do is make the best out of the situation, just as we always have…_

"What is wrong with you all?" Maleficent screams. "People used to cower at the mention of our names." Mal scurries off to the table, trying to put as much distance between her and her mother as possible, but her mother just follows and steps closer to everyone. "For twenty years I have searched for a way off of this island. For twenty years they have robbed us of our revenge."

 _Here we go again._ Mal can't help but roll her eyes, as her mother drones on with the typical complaints. _Doesn't anyone have anything better to do than some pitiful revenge? They lost. They should just give it up already and move on._

"And I, Maleficent, the evilest of them all. I will finally have my revenge on Sleeping Beauty and her relentless, little prince."

Mal finds her mouth slightly agape. _Wow. She really does hate them. This is serious._ Mal watches as the Evil Queen hands Evie the tiny imitation of the magic mirror, and it's not long after that Mal is armed with her own gift: her mother's spellbook.

Her mother smiles at it and comments as if it's the most precious thing ever, "Yes, yes. It doesn't work here, but it will in Auradon."

Jay smiles at his dad, whom sits in the armchair next to him, "Hey. Where's my gift?"

"Haha. Funny." He squints his eyes up at Jay when he doesn't respond, "My staff was stolen from me. Come on, Son. You know this."

"Right," Jay swiftly replies. "Sorry."

Maleficent hands her daughter the spellbook, "And now you will be making your own memories— by doing exactly as I tell you."

* * *

\- Well, this is the last scene that's going to take place on the Isle. Aren't you just going to miss it? So far I have zero reviews. Maybe some of you would like to say what you thought of their last days on the island?... just a thought.


	7. Auradon

**Auradon**

 **(Day 1: Sunday Morning)**

When the boys find their dorm Jay grins, "Wow. Auradon really does have it made."

Carlos throws his black backpack onto the left bed and sits down at the round table of ugly orange wood. "Yeah. It's wonderful," he grumbles as he places his chin in his hands.

"I would have thought you'd be happy to get away from your mother," Jay comments as he abandons his red suitcase and sits down across from him.

"That's why I'm worried," Carlos anxiously responds. "She was so angry with me before I left, because I didn't get a chance to do my chores. And now, she has to do them indefinitely."

"But you don't need to worry." Jay reasons, "She's stuck on the Isle. She can't hurt you while we're here."

Carlos reaches for the burn at the back of his neck, "But that's just temporary, isn't it? I mean, the plan is to bring them here." Jay stays quiet, as if he doesn't know what to say in response to that very real issue, leaving Carlos to trace his fingers over the burn. There's the hole, which still stings when he touches it, and then there's the skin next to it that feels a little like the uneven cooling of candle wax.

Jay's eyes narrow, "Did she hurt you?"

Carlos stares down at the reflective table, "It's not that bad." but he covers the mark with the whole of his hand as he does so.

Jay stands, "I'll be the judge of that." and he makes his way over behind Carlos. "Move your hand." Carlos doesn't budge, so Jay forces it off himself. "God, Carlos."

"It's not as bad as it looks. It—" Carlos licks his lips before biting at them, "It doesn't really hurt that much."

"How can it not hurt?" Jay objects. "It wasn't on you last night. This must have only happened a couple hours ago. It has to hurt."

"Yeah? And how would you know?"

"You forget," Jay replies, "that I've been hurt too."

Carlos scoffs, "Your father doesn't smoke. He just throws things. This is different. How it feels is completely different, and I'm telling you that I don't feel any pain right now."

"Oh. Is that so?"

"Yeah," Carlos confidently answers. "It just doesn't hurt."

"Then you won't mind if I do this," Jay responds, before presses his thumb hard on the hole of his friend's neck. Immediately, Carlos lifts his head up to take in a huge breath, and then he unsteadily releases it. "I knew it. This thing looks like a crater. There's no way you couldn't have not been in pain."

"A crater?" Carlos questions. "You're exaggerating."

Jay pulls the chair out, "Come on. Stand up."

"Why?" Carlos complains.

Jay forces him to stand and grabs ahold of his hand, "You have to see it." before he pulls Carlos past the blue beds and into the bathroom. "Take a look at it for yourself, and then tell me it's still not that bad."

Carlos twists his head in different directions, but he's still unable to see it. "It's on the back of my neck, stupid. Putting me in front of a mirror isn't going to change that."

Jay lets out an annoyed breath, "How do girls do this?" as he messes with the large cabinet mirrors. "Here. Try it now. Stand here."

Carlos looks into the right side mirror and sees his neck reflected into the left. Jay was right; it does look pretty bad, worse than anything he's ever had before, and he's surprised the pain isn't any worse than it had been. _But no matter how it appears, if it's not hurting me that much, then it must not be that bad. Right?_ "It's still not that bad," Carlos calmly comments.

"How can you say that?" Jay yells, and Carlos looks down and away from both him and the mirrors. "Don't you see what she did to you? She did this. She's such a horrible person."

"No, she isn't," Carlos shouts back in defense. "She's my mother, and I—" He sadly laughs at the realization and softly continues, "I love her."

Jay's expression falters, "Carlos. I—"

Carlos shakes his head, "No." and pushes past Jay. "Just forget it… Leave me be."

* * *

"Evie. What are you doing?"

She continues the exercise, "Did you know that there are complete channels dedicated to fitness and health?"

Mal scrunches her eyebrows, "Like you even need that."

"But I totally do," Evie struggles to say, as she appears to be out of breath. "Did you know that rock candy is a hundred and ten calories? I thought it would only be like five." She stops what she's doing to catch her breath, "I will never underestimate any kind of food again."

"You only had one piece."

"And yet I've seemed to have gained a pound." Evie's exhaustion turns into a grin, "I wonder if I lost anything yet."

Mal watches in disbelief as her best friend skips off to the bathroom, "Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you weighed yourself right when you got here? We haven't even unpacked anything yet."

"Why would we?" Evie laughs. "Aren't you the one that said we won't be here long?"

Mal hears a groan, "You also weighed yourself this morning after using the toilet when you were completely dehydrated. I don't know if you know this, but like I've said before, when you drink water you have the weight of that water running through your system."

Evie comes back out, "Perhaps, but I have zero water retention. My mother always tells me to drink enough water, because you can only lose water when you drink water."

"Yeah," Mal complains. "She also tells you that if you gain weight now, then you won't be able to lose it when you're older."

Evie laughs, "Have you seen her? I like to think she's just looking out for me, making sure I don't make the same mistakes she did." Her smile fades, "Beauty may be painful, but nothing will ever taste as good as skinny feels."

"And you honestly believe that?" Mal questions.

"Why wouldn't I, when it's so very true?"

"No." Mal shakes her head and steps forward, "This is your mother talking. These are her words. You're just playing them on a loop like some kind of…" She snaps her fingers until she remembers, "Record. Her words are just playing in your mind like some kind of record, aren't they? That's why it doesn't even matter we're miles away from them. You somehow still think your mom will know what you've done."

"What I eat in private, I wear in public," Evie retorts. "She would know, especially if we don't epically fail at completing this evil scheme of theirs." Mal doesn't speak, shocked into silence by how realistic her friend's fears actually are. The things she says may not make much sense to her, but in the end she's right. "My mother would know. And as good as things seem here, we're not on vacation and I can't just pretend we are."

Mal sadly nods, "Right. I get it. Just because your mother isn't here right now, that doesn't mean the things you're doing aren't happening. She touches her thigh, where the cuts would show themselves to be later, as she tries to remember anything horrible she may have done here so far. _No. Nothing. Or well, nothing other than a little disdain here and a snide comment there._ "Just promise me you'll be safe, to stop if it gets too bad."

Evie offers a sad expression, "Mal. You know I can't do that."

Mal slightly nods, knowing that if things got too bad with her that she probably wouldn't stop either, "Right. What was I thinking? We're villain kids. We do it big or we don't do it at all." She just kind of had hoped that Evie would make the promise anyway, because if there was hope for Evie, then that meant there was hope for her.

"I'm sorry. I just—"

"No," Mal interrupts. "I get it. You can't stop." She looks down for a mere second, "You're not going to stop. I get it."

"You do?" Evie sincerely asks.

Mal's mouth is open for a moment, before she finally speaks, "I think you know I do."

Evie nods and blinks fast, probably in an attempt to prevent tears, "Yes. I do know."

* * *

\- So, I had the hardest time editing the thumbnail, because when I left the editor it didn't save; however, I think I finally got it to work and if so it should be available for everyone to see. Also, if anyone wants to see what music/videos I've been listening to and watching as I've been writing this, then you can find the Descendants Fanfic playlist on the youtube channel AshLand Writer. I hope you've been enjoying this.


	8. Good for Nothing

**Good for Nothing**

 **(Day 1: Sunday Night-Monday Morning)**

 _Talk about an epic fail._ Mal puts back her wet hair, so she can see her legs clearly. _I went out past curfew, broke into a museum, cursed a guard to sleep, and attempted to steal the fairy godmother's wand— the headmistress's, who has been nothing but kind to us— and what do I have to show for it? Nothing!_ Mal slices her leg open with the blade. _I did it all for nothing. I caused all of that pain for nothing._ She does two more deep cuts, and when a tear falls from her face it causes some of the blood to slide off the side of her leg along with it.

"Don't you enjoy watching innocent people suffer?" she remembers her mother ask, and she takes a deep breath before sliding the blade towards her again. "Well, then. Get me the wand!" Mal lifts her head slightly as she gulps. She couldn't even do that. She couldn't follow the simplest of orders and prove the least bit worth to her mother.

 _How could I, when I'm absolutely pathetic and worthless?_ She winces, as she does five smaller but deeper cuts, and when she sees the blood create a small pool in that area she relaxes some. _I did it. I got what I deserved._ She reaches for the toilet paper and folds the squares, before she sets it on top of the blood. She takes another calming breath as she watches it seep through. It will take a few tries before all of the blood is finally wiped away, and she will have to wash her face of the tears she had spilt afterwards, but like Evie had said earlier: she had to do it. It had to be done, and now that it's over she doesn't even regret it. She knows some people do, but she never has. _It's because I know I deserve it. I'm content with it happening, because I know I deserve every moment of pain it brings and any scars it may leave._

When she's done double checking to make sure she didn't leave anything stupid out she walks back into their room. Evie comments, "You were in there for a while."

"We need a new plan," Mal diverts. "We need to find a new way to get that wand."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Evie yawns. "School starts at 8 A.M. here, and it's already one o'clock."

Mal sits down on her bed, "Right." and shuts her eyes. "I forgot."

"Geezes, Mal!"

She opens her eyes and loudly defends, "I just forget things sometimes. Okay?"

"No. Not that." Evie nods to her leg, "How deep did you cut?"

Mal sees the red stains showing through her purple sweatpants, "I don't know. I saw some new razors in the cabinet, and I took the blades from one of them." She looks up at Evie and sees the horror. "I guess they're sharper than what we find on the Isle."

Evie covers her mouth with a hand as tears escape her eyes, "Mal. Just why?"

"Because I deserved it," Mal comments nonchalantly.

"Deserved it?" Evie questions. "But Mal, you've done nothing wrong. You're perfect."

Mal laughs, "I'm far from perfect."

"No, but you are," Evie insists as she reaches for her hands. "You're so beautiful and smart, and you're just so good at every—"

"I'm good at nothing," Mal interrupts. "It seems like I can't even get the simplest things done correctly these days." She looks her in the eyes, "No one's perfect, Eves. And I realize that as your crush that I must seem perfect to you, but I'm not. I'm really not."

Evie looks down without comment, but then she sees Mal's leg is worse than ever, "How about we get you in the bathroom, and I can patch you up. I'm pretty sure they have some kind of kit in there." Mal sadly nods. "Okay, then. Don't worry. We'll get you all patched up in no time." Mal suspects that it's actually Evie who's worrying, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she merely follows her best friend back to the bathroom.

* * *

\- That's it for day one in Auradon. See you tomorrow for day two.

- **Elizabeth Annette** : I just saw your review before I was going to post this. Thank you, by the way, as you can say you were the first... but this isn't Youtube, so maybe that isn't a thing. Answering your questions: **1)** I am going to be following the movies to the best of my capability. There are probably some things which were not explained very well (in my opinion) that I may strengthen the lore of and unintentionally deviate from any future movies that come out, and of course the point of all of this is that happy endings aren't as happy as they're portrayed; however, for this fanfiction I only intend to write in the blank spots the movie had and to add onto where it ended. If I do this right, then I plan to have this fanfiction end at the end of their second semester (which is the one I'm pretty sure they're in right now at the start of the movie). **2)** There are three things that can't hide for long: the sun, the moon, and the truth. So, as with any secret, people will inevitably find out. The only question is when. It could be the week they're first adjusting to the new place and life they have, it could be after they die when some form of evidence gets exposed, or... I don't know. Perhaps it happens during class. (;]) So sorry. I really don't do emojis at all... but anyway. The point here is that it will eventually happen, but I think what you'd all prefer to know is the hows and whys and the to whoms. Sorry to say, you're just going to have to read and find out.


	9. You Shouldn't Have

**You Shouldn't Have**

 **(Day 2: Monday Evening)**

"It's not that hard, Evie. Just choose something," Mal seethes.

Her hand moves over the area of fruit, but then she pulls her hand back, "How many calories do you think a peach has?"

"God," Mal places a hand to her forehead, before she glances behind her. She makes eye contact with Ben, and not a moment later does he step out of line to go over to them.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

Mal grins, "We're just perfect."

"Yeah. Um." Ben hesitates, "Not to be rude or anything, but what's holding up the line?"

Mal bumps Evie with her elbow to get her attention, "E. Ben here wants to know what's taking you so long."

"Oh. Ah," Evie nervously smiles. "There's just so many good things here. I couldn't possibly choose anything."

"Then allow me," Ben gestures to himself, before he takes Evie's tray. He places some carrots in the first square and a pear in the circle, before he asks, "Do you eat meat?"

"Sometimes?" she answers unsurely.

Ben laughs as he moves down the line to put chicken alfredo in the rectangle, before he remembers the desert and puts a brownie in the second square. "Here you go," he says as he walks back to Evie and hands the blue tray to her. "I hope everything is to your liking."

She tries to smile, "It's great. Really. You shouldn't have."

"Anything I can do to make it so that our already short lunch hour doesn't become any shorter, and now all you have to pick is your drink." He sees his girlfriend crossing her arms, "Hey, guys, I have to go, but it was nice catching up with you. See you later."

Mal hurries to dish herself up, before her and Evie move over to the drinks table. Evie comments, "He is aware it's dinner, right? Are you sure you even need to spell him?"

Mal laughs, "He's just like anyone else in Auradon. Don't mistake his niceness and interest in us for attraction, because all we are to him are princely duties and castle gossip."

"I guess you're right," Evie replies as she fills herself a large glass of ice water.

"I am right," Mal assures as she fills her glass up with milk, before they meet with Jay and Carlos at the table.

"Hey, guys. What took you so long?" Jay asks. "Carlos was just telling me how he got over his fear of dogs."

"That easy, huh?" Mal responds with interest.

"No. Not that easy," Carlos bumps his shoulder into Jay's arm. "Whenever Dude tries to lick me I still have this fear he's going to attack me, but it's a working progress."

"Well, good for you," Evie replies as she pushes the tray forward to make room for her arms to lie on the table.

Carlos looks between Evie and her tray, "Aren't you going to eat?"

When she doesn't respond Mal replies for her, "No. These are just props. Her mother's forbidden her to eat anything until her weight goes back down."

"That sucks."

"Well, then." Jay reaches for the brownie, "You won't mind if I take this."

Carlos reaches for it as it nears Jay's mouth, "Hey. I was going to ask for that." Jay takes a bite, and when Carlos grabs the brownie it breaks in two.

Jay chuckles, "Take it or leave it, man."

He plops it into his mouth and begins to chew, "Why do you have to be so mean?"

"Come on," Jay smiles as he lays an arm on his shoulder, "You know you love it."

"Yeah. Sure." Carlos sarcastically comments, "I also love water in my shoes and ceiling debris in my bed."

Jay laughs, "You're so sensitive."

"Not to interrupt," Mal urges, "but we should really discuss the new plan."

"What's there to discuss?" Jay questions. "You're going to get Ben, sit with him at coronation, and the rest does itself."

"Hardly," Mal disagrees. "We need to know where and when to make the cookies, we need to get him to actually take one, and then there's the whole part of how his parents and current girlfriend probably won't be too pleased to have me with him."

"Why do you need his parents' approval?" Carlos asks. "It's not like you're really going to be dating him, and this will all be over in a few days anyway."

"It will make things go smoother," Evie defends.

Mal nods, "If we're going to do this, then there can't be any surprises. This has to go to plan, and that will be easier if we don't have people coming at our throats the entire time."

"Speaking of which," Jay nods behind them. "I think we've got company."

"Hey there," Evie smiles, as Chad Charming walks up to them.

"I'm not here for you." He stares down the guys, "I'm here for them."

"What about?" Carlos asks.

His eyes narrow, "You shouldn't have joined the team. You're just so useless, and you—" He glares at Jay, "You've taken everything from me."

Jay scratches his head, "I thought coach said it was a team sport."

"No," Chad disputes. "It was mine. Mine and Ben's, and now you islanders have ruined it for all of us."

"Look." Carlos explains, "The headmistress made us try out for it. We didn't even want to go out for your stupid team." Jay nudges him. "Or, at least I didn't."

"Good, then," Chad smugly smiles. "I'll let coach now you quit, then."

"No," Jay retaliates. "We're not quitting."

"What?" Chad snarls.

"You heard him," Carlos calmly supports. "We're not quitting just because some guy with a narcissism complex wants us to."

"What? I don't use narcotics," he denies.

"No, no. Narcissism is—" Carlos lets out a tiring breath, "You think you're some kind of god out on that field, but if you were, then you wouldn't be trying to make us quit right now."

"You don't understand," Chad threatens. "I'm telling you quit."

"And if we don't?" Carlos asks.

"If you don't quit the team," Chad yells, "then—"

"Then what?" Ben asks from behind him.

Chad turns around, "Then I'm going to have to get everyone to sign a petition saying that they should leave."

Ben smiles, "Yes, yes. Great idea. Why don't you go do that?" After Chad leaves Ben takes a few steps forward, "Sorry about that. Being a prince you would think he has everything, but really the tourney field is the only place he has felt wanted." He brings a hand to the back of his neck, "Not that I should have told you that."

"No. You shouldn't have," Jay agrees. "How could we possibly know if we could trust you now?" Ben's expression turns to worry. "I'm just messing with you, man. It's always nice to dig up some dirt on an enemy."

"Oh." Ben retorts, "This is Auradon. We have no enemies here."

"If you say so," Carlos disbelieves.

Ben awkwardly laughs, "Ah, but you're all okay then?"

Carlos and Jay exchange nods, before Mal responds, "Yeah. We're completely fine, but oh." She bares her teeth with a smile, "Evie and I wanted a girls' night. Is there a chance that the kitchen stays open past meal times?"

"Yes. Of course," he answers, "but sadly it will only hold the essentials."

"Essentials?" she asks.

"Yeah. Well, there'll be things like ice cream and stuff for sandwiches, but for the most part you'd probably have to make things from scratch. And they don't have popcorn, so if you want that then you'd have to get that yourself.

Jay scrunches his eyebrows, "How don't they have popcorn. That was one of my main food groups on the Isle."

Ben almost laughs, "Something about it not being healthy enough."

"Wait," Carlos interrupts. "Does that mean they don't have chocolate?"

"Actually," Ben explains, "chocolate can be very healthy— in small doses. The kitchen has it, but don't eat too much. It can make you sick."

"As with anything," Evie makes herself known.

"I suppose so," Ben unsurely comments. "Wait. Have you not eaten yet?"

"We just haven't had the time," Mal excuses for her. "You know, what with her indecision and Chad's intrusion."

"Oh. Bennyboo," Audrey calls for him.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere."

"Elsewhere," Mal funs. "How princely of you."

He laughs, "Yes. It is, isn't it?" before he takes a step back and leaves.

Mal looks back at Evie, "Seriously. Out of every prince in this school, I can't believe you went for Charming."

Evie shrugs, "He seems incompetent enough. If I've learned anything during my stay here, it's that no price would ever take a villain as their queen unless they were to be spelled."

"Incompetent?" Mal questions. "He has you doing his homework."

"He has you doing what?" Carlos disbelieves.

"It's just a temporary setback," Evie reassures. "He just can't focus on me right now, because he just has so much homework piled up on him."

"Is that what he told you?" Jay asks.

Evie looks down, "Not in so many words, but I know it's what he meant."

Mal looks at her seriously, "Evie. I think he's using you."

"Silly, little dragon," Evie replies. "People in Auradon don't use each other." She turns her head, "And even if he is using me, I'm using him at least just as much."

Carlos grins, "Little dragon?"

Mal uneasily responds, "Evie. Don't tease me in public."

"Sorry," she apologizes. "But you have to admit that I'm right about this. Auradon is the symbol of everything that is right and good. The citizens of it aren't just going to be bad."

"Unless we give them a reason to be," Carlos finishes.

It takes a moment for Mal to let go of her suspicions, "Alright. I guess you're right, but if it turns out you're wrong, then don't come to me to complain about it."

"Sounds fair," Evie agrees, before she offers the rest of the food on her tray to the guys.

* * *

\- Yeah. It's pretty hard to tell if Chad is smart at all or not. Smart enough to know what narcotics are, and yet not smart enough to realize that narcotics and narcissism are two completely different words. What do you guys think about Chad so far? Any predictions? I'd love to know what you think.


	10. Not at All?

**?Not at All?**

 **(Day 2: Monday Night-Tuesday Morning)**

"You weren't upset about what Lonnie said, were you?" asks Carlos.

"What do you mean?" Jay questions. "When she said she thought our parents would've loved us, even if they are villains?" Carlos nods. "No… not really. You?"

It takes a minute for him to answer, "Kind of. I mean, at least Mal and Evie can say their parents ultimately want what they think is best for them, but what about us?"

"What about us?"

"Do you think they love us at all? You know, in their own way?" Jay isn't given a chance to speak. "It's just that I know my mother said she'd miss me, but I wonder if she's actually missing me or if it's more that she misses what I do for her."

Jay takes a couple steps closer, "Carlos."

"Am I crazy?" he tears up. "Am I crazy for hoping that she could care about me even just a little? Is it even possible that she could?"

Jay walks closer to him and places a hand on his shoulder, "Anything is possible. And look, I may not know a lot about your mother, but I know that deep down under my father's desire to get his way that he does care about me."

"I wish I was as sure," Carlos sniffles.

Jay smiles, "Confidence is a gift." but it soon falls. "Of course, I could be completely wrong." Carlos slightly laughs, and Jay places his other hand over his cheek and wipes the tears off with his thumb. "If she doesn't care about you, then it's her loss."

"But you care about me, right?"

"Of course, I do."

"Even though you could have any girl you want?" Carlos comments.

Jay grins, "They have nothing on you."

"Really?" he hopes.

"Yeah." He takes the hand that was on Carlos's cheek and moves it into his hair. "And you know why?"

"Because I'm a guy?"

Jay laughs, "Because you have the willingness to follow through." before he slowly moves in to kiss him.

Carlos laughs in response, "By follow through, do you mean—"

"Would now be such an inappropriate time as to ask you to spend the night together and not just in the same room?"

Carlos grins before biting his bottom lip, "Not at all."

* * *

When Carlos enters the boys' bathroom after Remedial Goodness the next morning he's surprised to see four guys smoking, at least two of which he recognizes from the tourney team, "I didn't realize smoking was legal in Auradon."

Aziz comments, "You have to be twenty-two to buy them, but my father insists that a little bit of rebellious behavior is just a rite of passage."

"And who would your parents be?" Carlos responds with irritation.

"Sultan Aladdin and Sultana Jasmine of Agrabah."

"Oh, God. That means that—"

"That your friend and I are like natural enemies? Yeah. I know, but don't worry about it. The team needs more of a good center forward than I need of an enemy." After taking a puff he offers a cigarette to Carlos, "You want one?"

Carlos laughs, "No."

"Hey," calls out a blond guy. "He's just trying to be nice."

"Yeah. Whatever, but on the Isle we have a saying: if you hurt yourself, then you're even more weak than those who can't defend themselves." He nods down to the cigarettes, "I don't know if you've read any literature on those things, but I have. They're harmful, so you should really just quit them." He challenges with a shrug, "Unless, of course, you're just too weak to."

He sees a couple of the guys become shocked, as if they hadn't really thought through this whole rebellious thing until now, but the blond guy comments for them, "Your mother smokes. I know she does. She's practically famous for it."

"Because she can't quit," Carlos defends, but then he becomes quiet. "I mean, not that she'd want to stop anyway, but still. The island's saying still stands. If you hurt yourself, you're weak. It doesn't matter if it's from smoking, a knife, or just simply not thinking things through. It still applies."

Aziz breaks through his shock, "You're not just making this up, are you? This saying really exists. You're really encouraging us to stop. But why?"

"Let's just say that I've grown to hate cigarettes over the years," Carlos responds, before he moves into a stall for privacy. He can hear them talking about it. They're really considering if smoking could even be considered rebellious if even a villain kid didn't do it, and when he finishes up and walks to the sink they stare at him again. "What is it?"

"Do any VKs smoke?"

It takes a moment for Carlos to realize the acronym stands for villain kids, and even though his hands are clean now he continues to wash them so that he doesn't have to look at the group of smokers, "Only the stupid ones."

"Whoa. What's that?" a third voice intrudes.

"What's what?" Carlos asks.

"That, there, on your neck," he points.

Carlos slaps the hand away and hurries to dry his hands, "It's nothing. I was just picking up the floor, and my mother accidently dropped her cigarette on me. It's nothing."

Aziz comments, "If there was more to the story—"

"There isn't," Carlos yells. "So, you can just all shut up and be quiet about it."

He hurries past them and to the door, but then one of them calls out, "Wait."

Carlos turns back around and sees Aziz holding a hand full of items, and he asks, "What's this?" as he walks closer to them.

"We don't need them anymore," he explains. "Take them."

"What. You can't throw them away yourself?"

Aziz smiles, "It's a gesture of good faith. We're not like your mother. You can trust us."

Carlos unsurely comments, "Okay." as he takes the items one-by-one. It's just two packs of cigarettes and four lighters. "I should probably know your names."

"Well, as you know I'm Aziz. The one with brown hair is Brendan, the other black haired one is Li, and the blond one is William."

Carlos nods before gesturing to the four of them, "Are you all on the tourney team?"

"Yep."

Carlos gives a look, "And you were smoking? You know that causes lung problems, right? How stupid could you be?"

"Very stupid," William answers. "Thanks for enlightening us."

"Oh. Ah. You're welcome, I guess." He shakes his head, "Okay. Come on. You have to be messing with me, right? No one is this…" He searches for a word, "Undefensive."

Brendan smiles, "You guys have it pretty rough over there, don't you?"

Carlos frowns, "Yeah. I guess we do."

Aziz comments, "I'd like to believe that it's calmer here, more or less. You don't have to worry. We're being sincere. We shouldn't have been touching that stupid stuff anyways."

"Well, you don't have to worry either," Carlos calmly responds before he smiles. "I'll get rid of that stupid stuff for you."

"That would be great. We'll see you out on the field later, right?" Aziz asks

"Yeah." Carlos takes a few steps back towards the door, "See you then." and when he exits the bathroom he lingers a while to see if he can listen in. It's hard to do, what with the thick door and echoic area, but from what he can tell they didn't pull a fast one on him. They didn't just plant some kind of contraband on him. No. Worst case: they have some mixed thoughts about him. Best case: he actually made a good impression on them. _But they saw it. They saw the burn. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I lean my head forward so much? Why didn't I just cover it up in the first? Now it won't take long before the whole school knows… but then again, we're only going to be here for a few days anyway._

* * *

\- I'm not sure if the title fits the entirety of the chapter. If anyone has any suggestions, then let me know. Thank you. See you tomorrow for day three. And, yeah, I know it's lame to have someone make such a big deal out of someone's hair color, as if it's the only way to tell the person apart from another; however, if I just had him point to them, then you wouldn't have known the difference between them at all... so, yeah. I bet that after this fic is done and I edit it again that I'll be too annoyed by the lameness and find a better way to do it, even if it is just an author's narration from Carlos's point of view describing their looks rather than Aziz just saying it aloud.


	11. Makeover

**Makeover**

 **(Day 3: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"I don't get why you want to look pretty for Ben if he's just going to love you anyway, but this purple dress has always looked nice on you."

Mal stands behind her, "I still need to play the part. And besides, I've never been on a date before. It would be nice to have some kind of experience, even if it isn't really real."

"I suppose so," Evie softly replies, before she takes another item from the closet. "You should wear this black jacket with it."

Mal nods, "Looks cool enough." and takes the items from her. "Let me just go to the bathroom and change."

She tries to smile, "Okay."

Mal looks down for a moment, "I know this must be hard for you, but it isn't real."

Evie sadly laughs, "I know that."

"And even if this date with Ben were more than just some ploy…" She looks at her, "What we have, it's not like that. There's nothing more than friendship between us. You have to know that."

"Mal," Evie gulps and turns her chin up in attempt to not cry. "Of course I know that."

"Good," Mal responds before looking down at the steel blue carpet. "That's good." She pretends to smile at her, "I'll be out in a minute." Evie can only nod in response, and when her 'friend' leaves into the bathroom she lets out the breath she'd been holding. She hears herself whimper and gulps again to rid herself of that annoying sound, before she struts over to grab the sparkly blue makeup bag from her bedside table. She takes a tissue out and places it beneath her eyes before the tears can pool out. What is she kidding? Mal will only ever see her as a mere friend or some sister, even if she does flirt and kiss her every now and again. She takes in a deep breath, before she puts down the tissue and grabs her blue mascara. There's no way she could let Mal see her looking like such a mess, not over her. She lets out a calming breath and puts the mascara away, before she hears the bathroom door open. "How do I look?"

"Absolutely beautiful," Evie tries to smile. "Ben's going to love you."

"That's the plan," Mal lets out in a stressed breath.

"Oh. Except your hair," she comments in unsureness. "We really need to do something about that. Can't you at least make it look softer or something?"

"I'm not sure. Do you have anything I could use?"

Evie gives her a look, "All of my hair products are for dyed hair, remember? Yours is all natural. We couldn't possibly know how it would react to yours.

"Right," Mal shakes her head. "Wow. I've been really forgetful lately."

Evie laughs, "Can't you just use a spell or something?"

"Maybe." Mal walks over and picks up the spellbook from her bed and begins shifting through the pages. "New hair, curly, straight, and a load of colors. Volume. Non-frizz. Ah. Here. Soft hair spell. Permanently repairs current split ends and makes your hair appear softer up to five hours."

"Sounds promising."

"There's no stars next to it, but my mother probably didn't use hair spells much anyway." She gives Evie a questioning look, "Should I still try it?"

She smiles, "Totally. I've been dying to see you without split ends."

"Okay, then." She looks back down at the book, "Beware. Forswear. Make the hair softer and repair." She points at herself and does the finger movement the book says, and when it's over she places the hand to her head. "Ow. I've got a major headache now. How many people paid for this?"

Evie goes over to her sewing machine and opens the log book, "Fourteen."

Mal lets out an agonizing breath, "And they actually told their friends to do it?" Evie nods. "Well, please tell me it at least worked."

Evie smiles, "Don't worry. It did."

Mal falls back onto her bed, "Thank evilness for that. The last thing I needed was to have both a headache and to show up to my date with a rats' nest on my head."

"Come on. Let me do your makeup now."

Mal glares at her, "I told you already, Evie. I don't want any of that gunk on my face."

"But you're looking so pale," she insists. "At least let me put some blush on you."

"Ugh." Mal gives in, "Okay. Fine."

"Yay," Evie squeals, and Mal covers her ears. "What about eyeshadow and lip-gloss?"

Mal widens her eyes, "If it keeps you from screaming like that, then sure. Do it."

"Yay," Evie says again, this time more quietly. "You won't regret it. I promise."


	12. Blood and Pain

**Blood and Pain**

 **(Day 3: Tuesday Evening)**

"Today was pretty entertaining, huh," Jay comments as he tosses a Gatorade to Carlos.

He catches it and laughs, "Yeah. That whole thing was absolutely epic, but that song that Ben sang… Do you think people will figure out that Mal spelled him? I mean, with his whole 'I think about you every moment of every day' thing, when he only met her this week."

Jay laughs as he sits down at the circular table, "You worry too much."

"I just like to think," Carlos defends.

"So, you like to worry," he rewords.

"Should I be worried?" Carlos asks as he sits down. "Do you think they'll figure it out?"

"No. Everyone at the game seemed pretty into it, and even if they do, who cares?" He takes a sip of his red drink, "We only need this to last a few more days."

"I suppose," Carlos mumbles as he opens his yellow one, but when he takes a drink another thought occurs to him. "Do you think he meant it? Do you think he would give Mal his kingdom for one kiss?"

"Probably," Jay smiles. "He is spelled after all, but it doesn't matter. It's not exactly his kingdom yet."

"Right." Carlos replies, before a pair of furry paws jumps onto his legs, accompanied by a couple barks for attention. "Hey there, boy." The dog places his front paws back onto the floor and scurries over to the food bowl. "Are you hungry?" Dude barks in response. "Okay. I think I've got a bag of food for you by the bed."

Carlos stands, but then Jay comments, "It looks like he's out of water too. How about you take care of that, and I'll get him the food?"

"Yeah. Okay."

Jay stands, "Remind me. How did you get Ben's dog again?" and walks over to Carlos's bed to search for the bag of dogfood.

Carlos shrugs, "I guess he thought I'd be able to give it more attention. Either that or he just thinks some time around a dog will make me like them more. Or, maybe it's just that since Ben's dog is technically the so-called 'campus mutt' that he's supposed to stay on campus." He finds the water jug and begins to fill up the water bowl, "Now that you bring it up, I really don't know. It just kind of happened."

"And these cigarettes," Jay accuses through his shock, "did they just happen too?"

Carlos turns to see Jay looking at the pile of items on his bedside table, and as he does some water spills from the jug and onto the carpet. "Damn it."

Jay turns to him, a blue bag of dogfood in his hand, "Now. I know you didn't take up smoking after all of the complaining you've done about it."

"No. I didn't take up smoking," Carlos irritably reassures, before he finds some paper towels and goes onto his knees to dry the carpet. "I found some guys from tourney smoking in the bathroom. I convinced them it was bad for them and that they should stop."

Jay walks towards him and sets the dogfood onto the table, "That still doesn't explain how you got ahold of it."

Carlos rolls his eyes, "I said I'd throw it away for them. Okay?"

"Then why isn't it, yet?"

He grits his teeth, "Do I have to explain every little thing to you? I just didn't get around to it. In case you haven't noticed, we've all had a pretty busy day."

Jay nods and remarks, "Okay." before he walks back over to the items. "I'll just throw them away for you, then."

"No. Don't," Carlos calls as he runs over to prevent Jay from touching them.

Jay's eyes pierce at him, "Why?"

"I—" He looks away from him for a moment, "I think I want to keep them."

"Why?" Jay repeats, this time more forcefully.

Carlos looks around at any place but him, until he can muster up enough courage to say it, "They remind me of my mother."

"Yeah," he nearly shouts. "That's exactly why you shouldn't keep them."

"But I want to," he insists.

"But why?" Jay questions in frustration. "I wouldn't want to keep that knife my father threw at me, so why in the world would you want to keep these?" He gestures to them, and Carlos's eyes follow.

"It's not the same." He looks back at him, "That knife nearly killed you."

Jay looks at him in disbelief, "You think that argument is really going to work on me? It's completely the same, and you know it. How hurt I almost got doesn't matter. It's having a reminder of those memories that matters, and you have way more painful memories than I do." He points at the pack of cigarettes and yells, "They are a reminder of all the pain she caused you, so why would you want to keep them?"

"Because I want to remember," Carlos shouts back, and immediately after he had said it he bites his lip hard in regret.

Jay's mouth gapes open, "You want to remember?"

Carlos sits down on his bed, "I just miss her. Okay?" before he scratches at the back of neck anxiously. When his nails pull the edge of the scab open he finds himself calm down, as he releases a breath of relief, "That's all this is."

Jay shuts his eyes, "How can you miss someone you've been absolutely terrified of?"

Carlos calmly responds, "Absolutely and terrified are very strong words."

"But they're accurate, aren't they?"

Carlos looks down and notices the blood beneath his nails, "She's my family. I think I have a right to miss her." He looks back up at him, "Don't tell me you don't miss yours— even just a little bit."

"At least my father cares about me half the time," Jay argues. "Your mother doesn't even pay attention to you."

Carlos stands from the bed, "That's a lie!"

"Telling you to do your chores and punishing you if you don't doesn't count."

The small dog interrupts with several barks, and Carlos glances between him and Jay, "Are we going to argue all night, or are we going to feed Dude?"

Jay shakes his head in frustration and then sees the clock, "You feed the dog. I'm going down to dinner."

Carlos watches Jay leave, slamming the door behind him, before he shakes his own head and attempts a calming breath. The brown dog continues to stare up at him, so he finds the bowl, places some hard food into it, and then sets both bowls down within the dog's reach. The dog begins to eat, and Carlos takes a look at his nails again before placing them back onto his neck. He scratches at the scab on his way into the bathroom, and by the time it's peeled off he's able to wash it off along with the blood into the sink; however, he feels his shirt stick to his neck and reaches for it again. He wipes the area with his fingers, and when he looks at them the tips are covered in blood.

The dog barks, and Carlos lets out a breath when he sees him at the door, "I thought you were supposed to be eating." The dog barks again, and Carlos shakes his head. "Go." He doesn't move. "I said leave," Carlos yells as he points for him to go, but when he sees the blood on his hand again he brings it closer to observe it. It had dried fairly quickly, but it's still sticky. Even if he were to wash his hands there's no guarantee the stain will no longer appear on it afterwards. _I'll have to take a shower, a hot one._ The dog barks again, and Carlos tiredly shuts the door on him. He takes a squirt of the liquid soap and washes his hands under burning hot water, but after keeping his hands under for as long as he can handle his fair skin is still tainted from the stain. He lets out a shuddering breath from the pain, before he looks at himself in the mirror and whispers, "What's wrong with me?"

He hears a knock and opens the bathroom door, before he trudges over to the dorm's door and opens it to reveal Aziz and William. "What are you doing here?"

Aziz explains, "We heard yelling. Is everything alright?"

Carlos shakes his head, "Yeah. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?" William interjects. "Because we just saw Jay, and he didn't seem very happy."

He looks blankly at them, "We just had a fight. Okay?"

"What kind of fight?" asks Aziz.

"Just a fight," Carlos answers in frustration as he anxiously rubs the back of his neck. "But I promise you, everything's fine."

"You're sure about that?" Aziz questions with worry.

Carlos shakes his head again and lets his hand drop, "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Is that blood?" William notices, and Carlos stupidly positions his hand for both him and them to see it clearly.

He bites down on his lip, which by now he can taste the blood from, as they stare at him for an explanation. He shuts his eyes to avoid their fearful expressions, before he shakes his head once again and drops the conversation, "I've got to take a shower. I'll see you later." He shuts the door on them before either of them can stop him, and he struts over to where the cigarette packages and lighters lay. He opens the drawer to his bedside table and puts the items in it. Sure it would be nicer to see them, but at least this way no one would see them or question him about it all again.

He sits down on his bed for a moment in an attempt to relax, but soon enough Dude barks at him again and Carlos finds himself escaping to the bathroom and locking the door. He turns the shower's hot water on, removes his clothing, and prepares for the stinging pain. There may be a knock at the door again, but he ignores it as he steps into the steaming shower.


	13. A Bad Evening

**A Bad Evening**

 **(Day 3: Tuesday Evening)**

"So. That date with Ben," Evie begins.

"Should we really be talking about this," Mal inserts, "what with you… you know."

She smiles, "I was just going to say that it didn't look like it went well."

"No. It did," Mal retorts before taking a drink of milk. "Almost drowning and becoming an icicle was just part of the fun."

She takes a sip of water, "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or serious."

"Both, I guess," Mal answers, looking down at her tray for a second as she does so. "You know, and there was this moment when he was touching my hair and I could just feel the heat resonating off of him. It's like he's literally the hottest person I've ever met, and in that moment I just wanted to take it all from him." She laughs, "Well, maybe not all, but still. I wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?" Evie asks.

Mal shrugs, "I didn't want him to see me as weird or desperate, depending on how he interpreted it." She lets out a stressed breath, "But it took all of my will not to do it."

Evie laughs, "He really must be something." but then her expression falters.

"What is it?"

She shakes her head, "No. You told me if it went wrong, then to not come running to complain to you."

Mal offers an even look, "I don't see you running anywhere. Come on. Tell me."

"Well," Evie explains as Mal takes a bite out of the hamburger, "you were right. Chad was just being manipulative. Probably just wanted his homework done." Mal makes an acknowledging noise. "He ended up telling the Chem teacher about how I had been using my magic mirror in class. If it weren't for Doug, then I could be failing or expelled for all I know."

Mal holds up a finger and swallows before speaking, "If Chad was using you for homework, then why would he tell a teacher about your mirror?"

Evie shrugs, "Maybe the teacher found out he was cheating and offered him some kind of deal? I don't know. He may have been manipulative, but he's still not very bright. Maybe he just didn't think it all through."

Mal nods, but it's not a moment later that Jay shows up and sits down, "Hey there."

"What?" Evie observes, "You're not getting in line?"

"You're not eating, are you?" he asks.

She raises an eyebrow, "Ah. No."

"I figured as much. I'll just take yours, then," he replies as he takes the tray from her.

"You seem super stressed," Evie notices. "What happened?"

He shakes his head, "It's nothing. Carlos and I just got into a fight."

"Oh. Is that why he's not with you?" Mal inquires.

Jay lets out an irritated breath, "He doesn't have to be with me every second of the day."

"No," Mal lets out in a long tone. "But he usually is. He even took that biology class with you instead of the technology one he was going to, just because he didn't want to be alone."

"It was an engineering class," he corrects.

"Whatever," Mal bypasses. "My point is that you two are seemingly inseparable, so what exactly could have been so bad to change that?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Jay irritably responds before digging into his pasta.

"Jay."

"What?" he nearly yells as he looks up at Aziz and William. He takes a deep breath, "Sorry. It's been a bad evening. What do you want?"

"We were wondering what your argument with Carlos was about," answers William.

"We heard yelling earlier," Aziz explains.

Jay shakes his head, "It's nothing. Apparently he caught some stupid teammates of ours smoking in the bathroom." The two of them look at each other. "They gave him some cigarettes to throw away, but now he wants to keep them. Something about missing his mother or some garbage like that." He looks up at them, "Why?"

"We went to check on him," replies the black haired guy. "He seemed really anxious, and he had blood on his hand."

"We're worried about him," continues William.

"Why?" asks Jay. "Was he hurt?"

"The blood had to come from somewhere," comments the blond.

Jay lets out a semi-relieved breath, "If there was no obvious sign of him being hurt, then there's no reason to worry. He was probably just picking at a scab. It's a nervous habit he has."

"Why?" Aziz questions.

"Why what?"

"Why does he do it?"

Jay looks down for a moment and shrugs, "I never asked. I figured it was normal, like when some people pull at their hair or tap their fingers."

"I've known people to get anxious," Aziz comments.

"And so have I," William continues, "but we've never seen anyone hurt themselves like that." He shakes his head, "It's not normal."

Jay glances at Evie and Mal, who both seem a little concerned now, before he explains it away to his teammates, "He doesn't hurt himself. He's just picking at scabs."

"When it comes to interfering with the healing process," Aziz slowly questions, "is there really a difference?"

Jay takes a moment to respond, "Everyone does it. It's normal."

"You don't understand," Aziz insists. "There was too much blood for it to be normal. For it to bleed that badly he'd not have to have just picked at what was already coming off, but he'd also have had to dig into what wasn't ready to come off." Jay stays quiet. "After we saw it he said he had to take a shower and slammed the door in our faces."

William looks at his friend before agreeing, "He reacted so poorly to us finding out. He must know it's wrong, or else he would have been as calm about it as you are."

"He's always nervous and worrying," Jay retorts. "Maybe he really did just need a shower. You can't assume there was something wrong just because he was a little anxious."

The two of the teammates exchange concerned looks, before Aziz comments, "You know him best. If you truly think it's nothing, then we have nothing to worry about."

Jay answers, "It is nothing. You have nothing to worry about." and then with a responding nod the two of them leave.

Evie asks, "Do you really believe it's nothing?"

Jay looks at them but finds himself unable to keep eye contact, "I just can't believe he'd hurt himself on purpose. It has to be nothing."

Mal sternly, yet worriedly, replies, "You can't take that chance. You have to find out for yourself if what they said is true."

Jay nods, "I'll check on him later."

* * *

Later that night Jay sneaks into the dorm and uses a small light from his chain to guide himself through the darkness. He walks over to Carlos's bed and sees him turned over, asleep. Carefully, he kneels down and lowers the back of Carlos's shirt to reveal his most recent burn, but he's surprised to find it even deeper than he remembers. _Never mind interfering with the healing process. It looks like he didn't give it a chance to heal at all._ He releases a sad breath, before places the light over Carlos's hands. The right one seems clean, and when he situates the left one so he can see it he finds that one to be clean as well. If there was blood on either of his hands before, there for sure isn't now.

Carlos moves his fingers along his hand, before he tiredly asks, "Jay?" and turns onto his back to see him.

"Hey," Jay answers as Carlos opens his eyes. "How are you?"

"That depends," he slowly answers. "Are you still mad at me?"

Jay tries to smile, "I was never mad at you. I was just confused. I didn't understand."

"But I told you," Carlos states. "I just miss her."

"And I told you that's the part I don't understand." Carlos stays quiet. "You don't need to explain. It probably won't do any good anyway."

"Jay," Carlos begins.

"I know you said it's because she's family, but it still doesn't make sense to me." He looks down for a second, "And, frankly, I'm not sure it will matter how much you try to explain it to me, so let's just try not to bring it up again."

"Okay," Carlos replies, but then he slides himself up so that his back is on the pillow. "I was just going to say that you look…" He bites at his bottom lip, "I don't know. Sad, I guess."

It takes a moment for Jay to speak, "Why do you do it?"

"Why do I do what?" he softly asks.

"Why do you pick at your scabs?" Jay asserts.

Carlos feels water intrude his eyes, and he bites his lip again, this time in hopes to keep the tears at bay. Jay's never even mentioned this to him before, and he really doesn't like the idea of it happening right here, right now. "Ah-um." He scratches nervously behind his ear, "It— it calms me down."

"How?" Jay questions. "Is it just the action of it? Is it just because it gives you something to do or focus on?"

Carlos looks down and away from him, his mouth slightly open as he thinks. The first thing he thinks of is the stimulation he had felt when he had begun to dig out that scab, and then his mind moves to the relaxing sensation he had felt when his mother had burned him. His anxious behavior of picking at scabs, he realizes the calming effect doesn't come from the action. It comes from the pain. The pain is what makes him feel better, but when he looks back up at Jay he knows there's no way he could possibly tell him that. "Yes. It gives me something to focus on. It gives me a distraction from what's going on. That's how it calms me."

"So, you've never had any intention of hurting yourself?"

Carlos forces himself to look at Jay as he blatantly states, "People who hurt themselves are weak. I'm not weak. I'd never purposely do something like that to myself."

Jay smiles, "That's really good to hear. We were all starting to worry a little about you."

Carlos slightly widens his eyes, "Who was worried?"

"Aziz and William from our team. They told us about how you were acting when they checked on you. They said they were sure you were hurting yourself on purpose and that you must have known, because you had shut the door on them, and then Mal insisted that I make sure it wasn't true."

"You should have known better." Carlos excuses, "These Auradon preppies never know what they're talking about."

"They have had it pretty easy here," Jay agrees. "They've probably never seen what real hurt or pain looks like. I should have known a little blood on your fingers or nails would have freaked them out like that."

Carlos pictures the event again, how he had opened his hand for them all to see and how the blood had managed to cover most of it. "Yeah. It would be just like an Auradon kid to freak out over nothing."

Jay squeezes his hand before letting it go, "You should go back to sleep. We still have class in the morning." Carlos doesn't speak, instead turning back around and pretending to sleep.

* * *

\- That's it for day three.


	14. We do it Willingly

**We do it Willingly, of our own Free Will**

 **(Day 4: Wednesday Afternoon)**

"You finished your report, right?" Evie asks Mal as they walk down the hall.

Mal chuckles, "What's the point? It's not like it will matter."

"The presentations start today," Evie argues. "You should at least be prepared."

"Why?"

Evie steps out in front of her and angrily comments, "How about to keep up appearances. So, what exactly? You're willing to treat Ben like a real boyfriend, but you're not even interested in doing your homework. Is that it?"

"E," Mal complains. "You're overreacting. I have to keep up appearances with Ben, but we literally just got quote 'rescued' from the island. Do you really think they expect us to do our homework, much less be any good at it?"

"Yes," she nearly screams. "That was the whole point of us coming here, was to try our best and to reform."

Mal gives her a look, "I think you're missing the objective." before she moves past her and continues walking to class.

"Mr. Turner won't have this," Evie warns.

Mal laughs, "He's been our teacher for like a week. You don't even know him."

"He's legendary," Evie retorts. "I don't have to know him."

Mal walks into the classroom and sits down, "We'll see about that."

Evie sits across the aisle from Mal and a couple seats in front of Doug, but she still turns around to speak to him. "Hey."

"Hey," he smiles. "You all set?"

"You know it," Evie smirks, but then she turns back around as the teacher speaks.

"Today we have your oral reports. I trust that everyone has completed their assignments." When no one answers he repeats, "Everyone has completed their assignments. Yes?"

"Yes, Captain," the class inconsistently reassures.

"Sir will do just fine," the teacher comments, his hands placed behind his back as he paces the front of the class. "Raise your hand when you're ready to go." Evie raises her hand passionately, but the teacher ignores her. "Really? No one wants to go first."

"Um," exasperates Evie in confusion. "Sir, I—"

He looks towards her, "Doug. Why don't you go first? I know that you haven't skipped out on your assignment, have you?"

"No, sir," he emphasizes, but then his words are filled with shy cowardliness. "I just thought someone else could go first. I'd much rather be second, or even better— last."

"Get stage fright, do you, Doug?"

"Yes, sir," he timidly answers.

"You can't possibly be happy being a follower."

"No. I'm very happy being a follower," Doug tenses. "Actually, more than happy. I'm very content right where I am."

"Still. How do you plan on getting anywhere with such a crippling fear in your way?"

"I— uh," Doug stammers.

"Get up here and do your presentation," the teacher commands. When it seems as if Doug is going to insist on not doing it, he enforces, "That's an order." before he sits down at his desk.

Doug slowly walks up to the front, and Evie whispers, "Good luck." from behind him as he does so.

Doug gulps as he stares out at the class, "Ah. My report is on the pirate fairy Zarina of Pixie Hollow, Neverland. She start— arted out as a keeper of dust— pixie dust-keeper— fairy, and she started these experiments and—"

"Doug," the teacher interrupts.

He turns to him, "Yes, sir."

"Stop torturing yourself and just read the paper."

"Won't I lose points that way, though?" Doug asks.

"You'll lose even more if you keep stuttering like that," the teacher confidently replies. "Go on, now, and look at the paper and read."

Doug tries to take a relaxing breath, "Yes, sir."

"Oh, and just one last thing," the teacher interrupts again. "Speak louder, please, so that at least the front row can hear you." The class snickers. "Quiet!" When it silences he nods his head up at Doug, "Go on. Continue."

Doug stares down at his paper and loudly speaks, "Pirate Fairy Zarina found a fascination with pixie dust early in her career, and as such she started doing experiments with it. To do these experiments she borrowed some dust from her friends, and she would often fill out forms asking for early refills; however, later on even that wasn't enough. Her obsession led her to steal from the mill itself, and after a tragic event she was booted from the Hollow and became an outcast."

Evie watches as Doug slowly becomes better and perhaps even more confident in his report the further he reads into it. She can't help but be happy for him, even if the teacher had completely ignored her. _But what did I expect. I'm just some villain exchange student. Mal was right. He doesn't actually see me as his student. I'm just some bug interrupting his class._ She looks at the teacher and sees him intently watching Doug's presentation; however, after a minute he sees Evie, and when their eyes meet she quickly looks down at her own report before looking back up at Doug. Why does she always have to be so stupid? She may as well not even try.

She stares down at her report, her head in her hand, but only after what feels like a second the teacher addresses, "Evie."

She looks up at him in confusion, "What?"

"You had your hand raised before. Is there something wrong with going now that you aren't first?"

"No," she softly responds, before she takes her paper and heads for the front of the class.

The teacher comments, "Class. Pay attention now. As you already may know, Evie is one of our Isle of the Lost exchange students." He looks at her, "You must know quite a few pirates."

"Not that many, actually," Evie denies. "That wasn't really my scene." She looks at Mal but doesn't explain how she'd probably know more about pirates than she would.

"Still," Mr. Turner replies. "You must have at least seen some. I'm very excited to hear what you've got to say."

Evie merely nods, as she looks out at the semi-blurred classroom. "My report is on Captain James Hook of the Isle. A long time ago he lived in Neverland, searching for any kind of treasure or magic he could find. In his youth he had befriended the pirate fairy Zarina, and together they had found many great treasures together. However, one day a certain blond fairy, who we all know to be called Tinker Bell, corrupted his fairy, convinced her to betray him, and she and her friends stole the pirate fairy Zarina back to Pixie Hollow. This left the pirate Captain Hook very vulnerable, and it would take many years to rebuild his reputation."

"Later on," she continues. "Later on—" Evie suddenly feels weak and unsteady, so light that she can't even tell if her feet are on the floor, so she looks down to check; however, all she can see is the report in her hands.

"What's wrong with her?" Doug leans over and whispers to Mal. "She had this earlier."

Mal doesn't reply and just watches as Evie attempts to continue, but then that word is also repeated. Mal widens her eyes in realization and stands, as Evie stops speaking altogether, and she rushes over just in time to catch her when she faints. "Evie."

The teacher stands, "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Mal desperately yells at him, before she looks back down at her best friend. "Come on, Eves. Fainting in the middle of a report can't possibly be good for your grade."

Evie moves in her arms and cracks open her eyes, "Mal?"

Mal tries to smile as she attempts to convince them both, "You're okay. Can you stand?"

"Yeah," Evie answers as she gets back to her feet, and Mal slowly lets go of her as she does so. Evie takes in a deep breath, "Where was I?" before she picks her report back up from the floor. "Later on the pirate Captain Hook found a new enemy—"

"Evie," the teacher interrupts. "Stop your report."

"But I haven't finished yet."

"You can finish it on Monday. Right now I need you to go to the nurse."

"But I'm fine," Evie hysterically denies.

Mal hears her about to cry. _She's scared._ "Sir, she said she's fine. It would be a shame for her to miss all of the knowledge these reports could give her, if it really is just nothing."

The teacher slightly smirks at Mal, "What class did you learn that from? Manipulation Tactics 101?"

"Um," Mal looks away, unsure if he just got lucky or if he really did his research.

"I'm not going to spend precious class time arguing with the two of you. It's school policy that if anyone gets hurt or if anyone appears to be ill, then to send them to the nurse."

Mal grins, "Come on. Look at her." as she gestures to Evie. "She hasn't coughed, sneezed, or done anything else all day. She's perfectly fine. Can't you just let this drop?"

"No. I cannot just let this 'drop'," Mr. Turner says with finger quotations. "She needs to see the nurse, and if you're truly her friend, then you will make sure she gets there."

Mal looks away for a moment, "I don't even know where that is."

"Okay," the teacher nods, before he looks out at the class. "Doug. You've already gone. Why don't you show them the way?"

Doug stands, "Of course, sir." and walks over to them. "Well. What are you waiting for? Let's get Evie to the nurse."

Mal shakes her head with an irritated breath, before she trudges out of the room and the others follow her. Out in the hallway she complains, "We already know why she fainted. She shouldn't have to go."

"Why did she faint?" Doug asks.

Mal looks at her, but Evie doesn't speak. "It's private."

"Well, then," Doug logically responds. "You won't mind telling the nurse Evie's private problem in her very private office."

* * *

The nurse answers the door, "Are one of you Evie?" Mal and Doug look at their friend. "I've been expecting you. Come in." Mal and Doug sits in the two chairs, while Evie stands next to the paper covered bed. "Well. Don't be shy. Sit down," the nurse points to the bed. "So, I hear you fainted. Do you know why?"

"Yes," Doug answers for them, and Mal nudges him in the arm. "Ow." He glares at her, "What was that for?"

The nurse looks at Mal, "So. You do know why she fainted, then."

It wasn't a question. Mal knows her behavior gave it away, "It's private."

"Private?" asks the nurse. "What? Does she have a medical condition of some kind?"

"No. It's nothing like that," Evie answers, but when the nurse looks at her she looks down, unable to say it.

"Are you pregnant?"

"God no," Evie exclaims. "Do I look pregnant?"

Mal places a hand to her head, "You really had to ask her that?"

"You said it was private," the nurse calmly explains.

Mal sees the nurse's nametag, "Wendy. When someone says something is private that doesn't have to mean that they're pregnant or that they have diabetes or whatever."

The light-brown haired nurse calmly looks down on her, "This is a nurse's office. We discuss health and wellbeing here. What could possibly be so private that none of you can even tell me about it?"

"Family things," Mal irritably answers. "That's what's private. You really want to know what's going on? The Evil Queen is so vain that she has her daughter starving herself to lose weight. That's what's going on."

Doug frowns in shock, "Lose weight? But she's already thin."

Mal ignores him and glares at the blue eyed nurse, "She has been having her mother tell her that if she isn't thin then no one will want her, and you just asked if she was pregnant. I bet even Dr. Facilier or Mr. Hyde wouldn't make that mistake. You have to be the worst nurse ever."

"Mal," Evie softly responds. "This is Auradon. They probably have classes on self-esteem, emotional control, and health the moment they enter school. She couldn't have known."

"Actually, Evie, I'm going to give your friend some credit here," the nurse calmly acknowledges. "Our land may be at peace, but that doesn't mean that it's peaceful here. We still do have problems, and mental illness is still an issue here. Eating disorders have been prevalent among athletes, the fashion industry, and public figures alike. It's even more common for those with royal lineage. Being the daughter of the Evil Queen can't have been any easier for you."

"Oh. Ah," Evie places a hand just below her neck and slightly laughs. "I don't have an eating disorder. I mean, I don't know what that is, but I can't have that. I— I'm perfect."

"Ah-hum," the nurse disbelieves. "And when was the last time you ate?"

Mal watches as Evie frowns and looks away from the nurse, and when Evie remains quiet Mal answers for her, "She had a piece of rock candy on the way over here."

The nurse turns to her, "On the way to my office?"

"No," Mal partly smiles. "On the way to Auradon."

"But that was three days ago," Doug exclaims.

Mal softly chuckles, "I'm well aware of that."

"Then why didn't you do anything?" he questions. "How could you let this happen?"

"Hey," Mal asserts. "First off, I didn't let anything happen. Do you honestly think I haven't been encouraging her to eat or that I haven't tried to convince her that her mother has no say?" She narrows her eyes, "I've tried, but the reality is there is a reason to fear. What do you think her mother would do to her if she knew she disobeyed her orders?" She laughs it off after a second of silence, "Never mind. You couldn't possibly understand." Mal looks back at the nurse, "Can we leave now?"

"Hardly," the nurse sternly responds. "She has to eat something."

"Haven't you heard a word I've said?" Mal yells. "She can't eat, and good luck getting her to if it isn't zero calories."

"Hold on." Doug interrupts, "I have an idea." before he stands from the chair, struts to the door, and exits the room."

Mal watches him leave before looking tiredly back at the nurse, "She isn't going to eat."

"Well, I can't let her leave until she does," the nurse states, before she goes over to her desk and takes a granola bar out of the drawer. She tries to hand it to Evie, "Here. Eat it." Evie shakes her head. "You haven't eaten for almost a full week. Your body deserves something."

"No," Evie whispers. "It doesn't. I don't." She wipes the tears from her eyes, "I'm not good enough. I don't deserve anything."

"You have to have something," the nurse insists. "If you don't, then eventually you could die. Do you understand?" Evie looks away, and when the nurse asks, "How long have you been putting this kind of strain on your body anyway?" she doesn't answer.

Mal watches as the nurse prods Evie to eat again and again, and how she just keeps waving the granola bar in front of Evie's face until she breaks into even further tears, "No. I can't. My mom— she'd—" The words stop, but the crying persists.

When the nurse insists again, Mal stands and yells at her, "Stop pressuring her." The nurse looks at her in shock. "She's not going to eat, so just stop telling her to."

Nurse Wendy narrows her eyes at Mal, "She needs nourishment. She can't possibly survive like this forever."

"I don't disagree with you," Mal sternly responds as Doug comes back in, "but don't you see what's happening? She's crying. You're making her cry. You have to stop."

Before the nurse can comment Doug interferes, "Let me try something." She lets out a deep breath and steps out of the way, and then he walks over to Evie. "Here. Drink it."

"What is it?" she whispers.

"It's a sports drink. It has all of the electrolytes you could possibly need without any of the calories or carbs you're probably too afraid to have right now."

Evie looks carefully at the label, "This feels like a trick."

"It's not a trick," Doug quickly reassures. "It probably won't give you any of the energy or nutrients that you really need, but with any luck it will keep you from fainting again."

Evie takes off the cap and sniffs at the drink, "It doesn't smell like water."

"It won't taste like it either. They make them with different flavors so that it will be more popular and marketable." Evie gives him a look. "But that doesn't make it any less pure."

Mal watches Evie look at the water unsurely, "Evie." She looks at her. "If you drink it, I promise you I'll get you out of here." Evie takes a deep breath and then slowly lets it out, before she brings the clear liquid to her mouth.

The nurse looks at Mal, "That's not going to sustain her."

She narrow her eyes at her, "Didn't you hear him? We know that."

"Which means I can't let her leave," Nurse Wendy strongly replies.

Mal rolls her eyes, "And yet you will anyway." before she steps in front of her and widens her eyes. When she sees her vision change to thermal she commands, "Drop it and let Evie return to class." Mal steps back as the nurse drops the granola bar, "I didn't mean to literally drop it."

"Your— your eyes glowed," Doug stammers, startled.

"No kidding?" Mal sarcastically comments before grabbing hold of Evie. "Come on. We can go now."

When they reach the door the nurse shakes the command, "No. I can't let you go."

"What happened?" Evie questions with irritation. "I thought you hypnotized her."

"Hypnotized?" Doug repeats.

"Well, clearly, I'm nowhere near as powerful as my mother," Mal crosses her arms before stepping forward and smiling. "Wendy. I think we got off on the wrong foot here—"

"I'm still not letting her leave," the nurse angrily responds.

Mal rolls her eyes again before taking a deep breath, "Then I guess we're not going to ask for your permission again." She turns around and heads for the door, "Come on, E."

Doug steps in front of her, "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Mal grits her teeth at him. "I'm sparing Evie from any more of this—" She shakes her head, trying to find a better word, but then she realizes the word fits perfectly, "This torture."

"But I still don't understand," Doug confusedly replies. "Why can't she have just a little of something? If all she has to do to leave is eat the snack, then why won't she?"

"Because when it comes to our parents, following their orders, and trying to earn the least bit approval from them," Mal yells, "that will always come first, no matter what."

"What about Ben?" Doug calmly asks.

"What about Ben?" Mal argues. "He doesn't change anything. We still have to do as our parents say, because they command it of us."

"Has your mother ever commanded you?" he sincerely asks.

"What?" Mal softly questions, even though she knows fully well what he means.

"Has she ever hypnotized you?" he clarifies. "Like you tried to with the nurse just now."

Mal finds her mouth open but unable to speak. It had only been before she'd left that her mother had hypnotized her to go to Auradon to steal Fairy Godmother's wand. Between the distance away from her mother and the amount of time that had elapsed, the command should have worn off by now. _It probably has, but it still doesn't matter._ "My mother doesn't have to hypnotize me to do anything. We all do what we do for our parents to earn their love and approval. They don't have to force us to do anything. We do it willingly, of our own free will."

Doug frowns, "A parent's love shouldn't have to be earned."

Mal laughs in disbelief, "That just shows what you Auradon preppies really know." before she guides Evie out of the room.

When they make it into the hallway Doug calls after them, "It's emotional abuse." and then Mal halts. "Your parents making you all believe that you're no good and that if you disobey them then you will lose their love, that is emotional abuse. Your unwavering loyalty to them and your fear of not doing as they say, even when it's harmful to you, those are clear signs of it."

"Mal," Evie softly comments.

She continues forward with her, "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

* * *

\- I've never been able to make it through a Pirate's of the Caribbean movie before, so I'm terribly sorry if I got 's personality completely wrong.


	15. It's Completely Genetic

**It's Completely Genetic**

 **(Day 4: Wednesday Afternoon)**

"Do you know why I've asked you here?" asks Fairy Godmother.

Mal leans back with her arms crossed as she chews at a piece of gum, "Because I broke Evie out of the nurse's office."

"Yes, well, that and I hear you attempted to use magic on that nurse."

Mal snickers, "Who told you that fairytale?"

The headmistress politely smiles, as if enjoying the challenge that doesn't even exist, "Nurse Wendy and the student who was with you, Doug, told me everything."

"Well, they told you wrong."

"Is that so?" She folds her hands on the desk, "Okay, then. What's your side to this?"

Mal looks up at the ceiling as she recounts what had happened, "Evie fainted in class, I caught her, the teacher ordered us to see the nurse, Doug showed us the way, and when we finally got there the nurse started to ask a lot of stupid questions." The headmistress doesn't speak, so Mal continues in unpleasantness, "Nurse Wendy accused Evie of being pregnant, when she clearly isn't. Tell me, is it just because we're from the Isle that she'd think that happened? Because Evie's never been with anyone— ever. She literally just started public schooling a few years ago." Fairy Godmother frowns. "Would she have accused anyone in Auradon of this?"

The headmistress purses her lips as she thinks, "No. That wouldn't have been one of the first things she would ask someone from Auradon, but that's just because common alcohol is illegal here. We're well aware it still gets produced on the Isle of the Lost."

"So what?" Mal questioned. "What does alcohol have to do with anything?"

"It creates poor judgement due to lower inhibitions, and when drank to excess it can lead people to feel weak or ill. When alcohol is around there's always the chance that people can make mistakes. Or worse— be taken advantage of." Mal looks away. She hadn't even needed to drink for it to happen. All it took was for Harry to place that hook over her wrists, and then suddenly she became the stupid, weak girl she always feared she'd be. "Mal?"

Mal straightens up and lifts her head to look at her, "I know that, but that doesn't excuse her to ask that. Evie is the most innocent person I know. Her great evil plan is to marry into a royal family and live in a castle." Mal shakes her head, "She's so innocent and kind, and she's been way better to me than I'll ever deserve. I just hated it when that nurse made her cry like that. I had to get her out of there."

Fairy Godmother tries to smile, "You're a good friend, but staying in that nurse's office would have forced her to eat something or at the very least learn why she has to."

"She knows she has to," Mal asserts. "It's just her mother. Her mother has ordered her not to until her weight goes down."

The headmistress nods, "I know, but what's the worst thing that could possibly happen if she took more care of herself and worried less of what her mother thinks?"

Mal widens her eyes, but all she can do is shake her head, "I didn't ask. This kind of thing— it's always best if it's not talked about."

"You know," Fairy Godmother slowly starts, "the way that abuse works—"

"Who have you been talking to? Doug?" Mal interrupts, before she leans forward and grits her teeth. "Our parents don't abuse us. They care about us." She looks away for a moment and slowly sits back into an upright position, as she adds on, "In their own way."

"I know that's what you believe, but please just try to listen." Mal doesn't speak, only leaning back in the chair again as response. "The way that abuse works, the abuser will say or do threatening things that prevent the victim from coming forward and receiving help."

"I'm not a victim," Mal asserts.

"It's just legal terminology," the fairy godmother reassures. "I'm not saying you are." Mal crosses her arms and glares at her, but the headmistress is able to continue. "In an abusive relationship the abuser is also able to convince the victim that they care about them, even though they have done continuous acts that would prove otherwise."

Mal huffs a laugh, "If these 'abusive' relationships can be so easily confused with a normal relationship by the so-called victim, then how does someone know if it's abuse or not?"

"Well," Fairy Godmother begins. "Have you or your friends ever been physically hurt by your parents, maybe even regularly?"

After a moment of silence Mal comments, "These are just rhetorical, right?"

The headmistress shuts her eyes for a second, "Yes." before she continues. "The physical harm could be anything from punishment from a belt to handling a weapon. There's also emotional or psychological abuse, which can lead to a very similar result as physical abuse. In psychological abuse a parent may be neglecting the child's basic needs, or they may be putting down the child's self-worth by saying they're not good enough. As the child grows older, the parent may continuously tell them that they couldn't possibly know what's the right or smart things to do and that they should just continue to follow the parents' orders."

Mal feels her eyes burn with tears, before she angrily remarks, "Doug told you to say this. He told you to say these things."

She offers a sad expression as she shakes her head, "No, darling. He didn't."

"Don't call me darling," Mal seethes. "You're not my mother."

"No. I'm not," the headmistress calmly replies. "I'm sorry."

"Is that all?" Mal asks as she begins to stand. "Because I'd really like to leave."

"Just one more thing." Mal sits back down. "We still need to discuss the magic you used on the nurse."

Mal tries to calm down by letting in and out a deep breath, "I told you before. The hypnotism, it's not magic. I know it isn't, because my mother has been doing it." Fairy Godmother observes her with half concern, half interest, causing Mal to look away from her for a second. "It's just an ability a dragon has to separate their prey from a pack, force them into a clearing they can reach, and then immobilize them. It's not magic."

"So. You're a dragon?" she slowly questions.

"Part dragon," Mal corrects. "It's not like I can transform or anything." She looks over her carefully, "You seem shocked. What? Did you think my mother's dragon transformation was just some form of magic too?"

"Well. Ah…"

Mal rolls her eyes, "It's not. It's completely genetic. That's why my mother has horns." She touches her hair, "That's why my hair is purple. My mother's father was a very literal fire breathing dragon, and her fairy mother found a way to communicate with him, eventually giving him a potion to turn him temporarily human." The headmistress doesn't speak, and then Mal tilts her head, scrunching her eyebrows in question, "What do the history books here say exactly?"

She only smiles, "You're free to leave now."

"Oh. Cool," Mal quickly stands from the chair, before she heads towards the door. "See ya."

* * *

\- "You see, when two people hate each other just a little less than they do the rest of the world... Well, do I really have to explain it to you?"... I really want to put that quote somewhere.


	16. I Could Have Stopped It

**I Could Have Stopped It**

 **(Day 4: Wednesday Evening)**

"Wow," Carlos comments. "You look super mad."

"Yeah, well," Mal reaches for her milk. "I just came from Fairy Godmother's office."

"What did she say?" Jay questions.

"Oh, nothing," Mal sweetly sounds with a high pitch. "She only accused our parents of abusing us all and implied that we're all just helpless victims."

Jay and Carlos give each other a look, before Jay comments, "They kind of do abuse us, Mal. All of the threats and everything… It may seem normal to us, but no one does it here."

"And that's exactly why they wouldn't know what real abuse is," Mal asserts.

Carlos shakes his head, "Do you not remember that time Jay came to us with a blade hanging out of his shoulder?"

Mal stresses a smile, "So, his father got a little upset. All of our parents do. It's just because they've been trapped on that island. It doesn't make them abusers."

"Carlos's mother burns him," Jay refutes. "Regularly."

Evie covers her mouth as she responds, "Oh, God. Carlos." and all Mal can do is stare at him in disbelief.

Carlos glares at Jay, "I can't believe you told them."

Mal sadly stares at Carlos, "I can't believe you didn't tell us. I thought we were supposed to be friends. Why didn't you come to us?"

"Because it's not that bad," Carlos looks around before meeting her eyes. "Look. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," Mal insists. "Why does she even do it?"

Carlos looks down at his tray, "I don't know. I think sometimes she does it as punishment for, you know, when I don't do my chores. Other times… I really don't know guys. It might just be because I'm there."

"See," Jay tells Mal. "Our parents hurt us. Admit it. What they do, it's abuse."

Mal shakes her head and laughs, "No. Just no. I'm not a victim."

"Mal," Carlos comments. "None of us like these terms they use, but even I have to admit that by definition that's what it is. It doesn't matter how we feel about it. It's happening."

"No. No," Mal insists. "I'm not a victim. I'm just not. Not to my mother. Not to Hook. No one. You hear me?"

"Wait," Carlos gestures with a hand. "What does Harry Hook have to do with this?"

Evie frowns, "Mal. What did he do to you?"

She nervously laughs, "I told you before E, he didn't do anything."

"You never told me any such thing," she replies back.

"Well. I'm telling you now. Nothing happened."

"No," Carlos disbelieves. "You brought him up. He had to have done something."

"No. He didn't," she insists.

"Mal," Evie begins.

Mal cuts her off, "He was just mean. Okay?"

Jay furrows his eyebrows in speculation, "Did he hit you? I swear, if he did—"

"No," Mal interrupts. "He never did anything like that. I just didn't like him. Okay?"

"Mal," Evie sadly says as she reaches for her hand, but Mal pulls away before she can.

Mal merely responds, "I have to go." before she stands from the table and leaves.

As they watch her leave, Carlos asks, "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know," Jay answers. "She never told me the full story. It always just seemed like some book that had pages missing."

"Ones that she's unwilling to give to us," Evie adds on as she lays her head in her hand. "Upside is, Carlos, I got you a brownie, and Jay. You can have the spaghetti." She watches as the two of them give each other a look. "What? What is it?"

Carlos comments, "You scared us today."

"I couldn't even speak or move," Jay admits. "What happened—"

"It's fine," Evie interrupts. "I'm fine."

"Maybe you are. Maybe you aren't," Jay softly responds. "But what happened did scare us. Just the idea that that could have happened and that we were encouraging you…"

"You weren't encouraging anything," Evie replies in sureness. "You just took props. If it weren't for you, then they'd be in the trash right now. Is that really what you want, to know that while five-year-olds are starving on the Isle the food you could have taken from me just ends up in the trash here?"

"We're not going to enable you anymore," Carlos sternly responds.

Jay sees her disbelief, "You don't have any idea how horrible we felt when we saw what had happened to you. We're lucky you only fainted. If it had been worse, if you had died…"

"We don't know how we could've lived with ourselves," Carlos finishes.

Evie's eyebrows furrow as she shakes her head, "Whatever." and Jay and Carlos watch as she takes the tray to the garbage can, dumps it clean, and then brings it over to the metal counter to be washed.

* * *

Mal looks at the glint of light on the blade. She should have done something to stop it, anything to stop it. _I should have kicked more._ She slides the blade towards her. _I should have kneed him in the balls._ She makes another small, deep incision. _I should have just screamed. Why didn't I just scream?_ She places two long, deep cuts next to each other. "I should have tried something," she whispers, before she lightly slides the blade horizontally underneath the two smaller cuts and running over the two longer ones, creating what kind of appears to be a square.

"Mal," Evie calls.

"Go away," Mal yells back.

Evie steps towards the door and places her hand on it, "Please, Mal. Can you just come out and talk about this?"

"Don't you get it, E? I don't want to talk about it. That's why I left the table."

It takes a moment for Evie to respond, "Then let's just watch a movie or something. I hear movies are great. We should watch one." She doesn't speak. "Come on, M. Please."

"I don't feel like watching TV right now," Mal refuses.

"Then just let me in," Evie pleads.

"Um," Mal sadly laughs. "I'm, uh, not exactly decent right now."

There's silence for a minute, before Evie softly asks, "Why?"

Mal shakes her head as she stares down at the blood lines, "Because I deserve it." She hears the doorknob move back-and-forth. "I'm not letting you see me like this again."

Evie takes her hand off of the door, "You don't deserve this, Mal. Whatever Hook did to you, it's not your fault."

"And how would you know?" she questions. "You weren't there. You didn't even know me back then."

"No," Evie calmly responds. "But I know you now, and I can't believe you'd ever get so upset over something if you had any choice in it."

Mal clings harder to the blade as she grits her teeth, "Like I said, you weren't there. It was my fault. I started to hook up with some stranger, and because of that I found myself in a situation I couldn't get out of. What happened to me was my fault. If I hadn't gone out searching for some random guy to be with, then he wouldn't have even had the chance to do what he did."

"You did it for heat," Evie sternly reminds her. "You're not some slut. You did what you did to survive. You just got unlucky and wound up with the wrong guy. It's not your fault."

"Unlucky," Mal hysterically laughs. "You make it sound like I went to buy some nail polish at Curl Up and Dye only to find out it was cracked open and dried up."

"Then tell me what I should be comparing it to. What happened exactly?" Mal stays quiet. "Come on, M. Aren't I supposed to be like your best friend? If you can't tell me, then who else are you going to be able to tell?"

"No one," Mal asserts. "That's the whole point. I'm not telling anyone."

It's quiet for a minute, before Evie evenly comments, "Alright then. I won't ask again, but just know I'm here whenever you need me." Mal doesn't respond. "Okay, then. I'm just going to see how TV is really supposed to be. Feel free to listen in… if you like."

Mal stares down at her destruction. _Just a mistake. Just some unlucky mistake. No. I could have stopped it. If I had just known… If I had just seen it coming._ She holds the blade between her fingers and examines the bloody fingerprint she had left, "I could have stopped it."

* * *

\- That's it for day four. Feel free to review on what you think so far. I love reading your guys's comments and questions, so don't hesitate.


	17. Parents' Day

**Parents' Day**

 **(Day 5: Thursday Morning)**

Evie turns over in bed and groans, as she hears a knock at the door. "Mal. Can you get that?"

"You're closer," Mal complains from her own bed.

"You just got up five minutes ago to use the bathroom," Evie debates.

"It's been way more than just five minutes." She hears the door and sits up tiredly, wiping the sleepiness from her eyes, "Okay. Fine. I'll get it."

Evie murmurs, "You're the best."

Mal smiles, "I know I am." as she walks to it, but her smile falls when she walks to the door. "Doug. What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I'd check on you guys." He peers over her shoulder, "Are you doing alright with everything."

Mal gives him a look, "She's fine. Thanks." and she tries to shut the door on him; however, he puts in foot in the way.

"Are you guys going to the Parents' Day event outside today?"

"They're serving the food outside today and the kitchen is probably going to be filled with servants, so it's not like we have a choice."

"Right," Doug slowly responds. "Oh, and, the servants really like to be called employees now. 'Servants' just suggests some kind of class division."

Mal raises an eyebrow, "Sorry. Is Auradon no longer a monarchy?"

"No. It is," Doug states. "However, regardless of that everyone has equal opportunity here. The monarchy really isn't as influential as it used to be, what with the council and everything that's in place now."

"Must be nice to live in ignorance. The Isle may be a dictatorship, but at least everyone there is aware of it."

Doug straightens up and twists his head in question, unsure if he could have possibly heard that right, "The Isle of the Lost is a dictatorship?" Mal nods. "Who's the dictator?"

She smiles, "My mother."

"Wow. She must have a lot of power."

Mal huffs a laugh, "Not really, no. But she is one of the only people there with any literal power, so she declared herself their ruler."

"Literal power?" Doug asks.

"The hypnotism," Mal explains. "She's not as strong as she used to be, but she can still make people do her bidding when she feels like it."

"Oh, right. The hypnotism," Doug remembers. "I've been meaning to ask you, has your mother ever used it on you?"

Mal rolls her eyes, "You already asked me that."

"Yes," he slowly lets out. "But you never answered."

"And I still can't," Mal avoids. "We've got to get ready. It is formal. Right?"

"Yes. It is."

"Okay then," Mal smiles. "Bye."

"Wait," Doug hurries as she begins to shut the door again. "Can you ask Evie if she'd be possibly willing to have lunch with me?"

Mal looks back over her shoulder, "What do you say, Eves. Does lunch with Doug sound good?"

Evie waves her hand at her and yawns, "Yeah, yeah. Sure. Sounds great."

Mal slightly laughs before turning back to Doug, "Well, she said sure."

He looks at her in surprise, a big goofy smile on his face, "Really?"

She looks over him irritably, "She's still half asleep. Don't count your blessings."

"But she will have lunch with me?" Doug asks for reassurance.

Mal tiredly comments, "All I can do is remind her. See you later. Maybe." before she finally shuts the door on him.

* * *

Carlos lets out a stressed breath, "I have like nothing to wear."

Jay walks over to where Carlos has his clothes laid out on the bed, "That can't be true." but when he actually sees what's there he makes a hissing sound, as if he'd just experienced some kind of burning pain.

"I told you I had nothing."

Jay laughs uneasily, "Well, you weren't wrong." He looks over the clothes for a minute before picking out of few things, "How about you just put on these black pants, this collared shirt, and this jacket."

"Are you sure that will be formal enough?" Carlos questions.

Jay slightly nods, "You're right. Here." He takes off his red tie and hands it to him. "My jacket already looks like a vest. I'll fit in with or without a tie, and I really don't like ties."

Carlos smiles, "Thanks."

"No problem. What are friends for?" Jay responds with a slap on Carlo's shoulder, before he crosses the room into the bathroom."

"Yeah," Carlos stares down at his shoulder for a moment. "You're— you're a great friend to have."

Jay comes back out with the sides of his hair pulled back, "Oh. Yeah. I forgot to mention that I invited the guys over to hang tonight. I hope you don't mind."

"No. Of course, not," Carlos tries to lie. "There's nothing I love more than sharing our dorm with the entire team."

Jay smiles, "It's not like they're sleeping over." and when he sees Carlos look away he takes a couple steps closer. "I get that you're not huge on socializing, but they are our team. We should at least get to know them."

Carlos shakes his head, "Why do you even want to get to know them?" before he crosses his arms. "It's not like we're staying long. Why do you have to spend it with them?"

Jay frowns, "Honestly? I'm just really hoping the plan goes wrong, or that Mal somehow changes her mind."

He blankly stares at him, but his arms uncross, "Why?"

Jay laughs, "You're kidding, right?" but Carlos doesn't respond. He takes a few more steps closer, "We have it good here. I don't have to work for my meals. You aren't getting hurt by your mother." Carlos looks down at the floor. "We're free here."

"It's not going to last, Jay," Carlos nearly yells. "What do you think happens after the school year is over? You know just as well as I do— as we all do— that we're just exchange students. We're not citizens here. We will get sent back, and how do you think our parents will react when we do?" Jay doesn't speak, a newfound frown apparent in his features. Carlos turns away from him, "I'm sorry, but you know it's true. We don't belong here, not like this."

Carlos feels a hand set itself on his shoulder, before Jay asks, "Do you really think this plan is good. Good for us, I mean?"

He slightly nods, "Yeah. It's better if we go through with it."

Jay lets his hand slide off, "Okay, then." and Carlos turns around to face him. "I'm with you. If you really believe this is what's best for us, then I will follow this mission through."

* * *

\- Ouch. Talk about being friend-zoned. Just curious. Has anyone had a friends with benefits agreement that somehow didn't go terribly wrong in some shape or form?


	18. Guys' Night

**Guys' Night**

 **(Day 5: Thursday Night)**

"Is it just me or does the air seem a little thicker in here now, like harder to breath," Jay notices as he sets the three pop bottles and one large pizza onto the table.

"Oh. Yeah," Carlos begins, placing a hand to his neck for a moment. "I may have lit a cigarette earlier, but that shouldn't have affected the air that much."

Jay shakes his head, and Carlos can't tell if he had found the information tiring or just boring. "What are you doing lighting cigarettes?"

Carlos comments unsurely, "I just wanted to remember."

"That's why you kept them," Jay reminds him. "You didn't have to light one."

Carlos points towards their sleeping area, "Do you want me to crack open a window?"

"That would probably be a good idea."

"Okay." Carlos walks over to their bedside tables, uses his right hand to hold the curtain open, and then uses his left hand to crack open the window before he lets go of the curtain. "There." He turns around and finds Jay looking at him in thought, "What?"

Jay shakes his head, "Nothing." before he glances at the clock.

Carlos walks back to the ends of their beds and towards the round table, "No. Tell me. What is it?"

He shakes his head again, "No. I said we shouldn't talk about it again."

Carlos shuts his eyes for a moment, "Jay."

"It's just that I still don't get it," he explains. "Can't you just remember her and everything without those things lying around? I mean, how can you not? She's done nothing but hurt you for a very long time. How can you not remember any of it? Doesn't it just invade your mind sometimes? Don't you ever just find yourself not being able to forget about it?" He waits for some kind of response, but Carlos remains silent. "And why would you even want to remember? She may be your mother, but why would you want to keep a reminder of all the pain she's caused you?"

"I don't know," Carlos softly answers. "It's just…" _Oddly comforting._ "I don't know." Neither of them speaks for a minute, and as Jay is about to reply there's a knock on the door. "You should get that."

Jay turns around and goes over to open the door, "Hey guys. Come on in." He watches as William, Brendan, Aziz, Ben, and Li pass him. "Is that it?"

"Oh. Yeah," Brendan awkwardly replies. "Chad still doesn't very like you, and he's convinced some of our team members not to encourage your stay here."

Jay shrugs it off, "Don't worry about it. At least now I won't feel guilty about the lack of pizza. We could only afford one." He turns around and sees them sit down. "I hope everyone likes pepperoni." He sits down on Ben's left, facing the door, and Carlos down to his left and next to Aziz. "We also have Dr. Pepper, Pepsi, and Mountain Dew."

Li comments, "You played it very safe."

He laughs, "Yeah, well, that was kind of the idea. I know it's not much of a party, but if we get bored and anyone knows any good channels, then we could always turn on the TV."

"Forget the television," Brendan grins. "You lived on an island filled with every legendary villain ever. You must have some great stories to tell."

Carlos and Jay give each other a look, before Jay nonchalantly answers, "Not really."

Carlos tries to laugh, "Yeah. We only ever really got one TV channel." He emphasizes, "Pretty boring if you ask me."

William looks at him in question, "You guys only had one TV channel?"

"Well, two," Carlos corrects, "but it was basically just an ad for villain merchandise. The other one is just the Auradon news channel, which no one ever truly watches."

"Okay," Brendan gestures. "Now I know you must have some stories. It's not like you just sat around the house doing nothing."

Jay frowns, "No, but it's kind of hard to have any good stories to tell when all we were trying to do was survive. What we tell you might end up sounding like some great adventure, but to us it was just everyday life. And trust me. You wouldn't want it."

Ben asks, "How bad was it?"

"I wouldn't call it bad," Carlos starts. "I spent most of my days doing chores, going to school, and then returning home to do more chores." He half laughs, "Except that most days I don't do all of my chores."

"How could you?" Jay questions. "You have too many. It's not humanly possible."

"It's possible," Carlos denies. "It's just that for some stupid reason I don't do them. Don't know why… You would think I'd do them just to keep my mother relatively happy."

"Is that why she burns you?" asks William.

Carlos widens his eyes before glancing over at Ben, and then he grits his teeth at the blond, "Not everyone at this table knew that."

"Wait. So, it's true?" Ben questions, seeming to look a little worried.

Carlos smiles, "Enough about me. What about you, Jay?" He lightly nudges him on the arm, "Why don't you tell them all about your day on the Isle."

"Ah. Yes," Jay distracts them from Carlos. "Well, there's not much to tell. I spent a lot of my days skipping class to steal things out of people's lockers."

Li gasps, "I knew someone stole my deodorant. It was you."

Jay lets out an annoyed breath, "I didn't steal anything from you, or at least not like that. I've just taking what's been lying around, and even that I haven't done in a couple days. I figured that you guys have a different set of rules here."

"What?" Brendan questions skeptically. "The Isle of the Lost has rules?"

"Yeah," Jay seriously answers. "If you leave something lying around, then expect it to get stolen."

Li huffs, "And you expect me to believe you didn't steal my deodorant."

Aziz sternly responds, "He didn't steal it. I borrowed it, so just cool it."

After the moment of silence Jay breaks it, "And in any case, if I did steal anything I wasn't supposed to, what are they going to do? Send me back to the Isle?" He huffs a laugh, "I live there. It's only a matter of time before we get sent back there anyway."

Ben interrupts the table of shocked frowns, "Why would you think that?"

"Maybe because we're just exchange students," Carlos reasonably answers. "This is practically a different country. We're not really citizens here. After the school year is over where else could we possibly be sent to other than back home?"

Ben is quiet for a moment, and when he speaks there's a sadness to it, "I never planned to send you back there. The idea was that if you could learn to be good, then you'd be given a chance to stay here. If you remain relatively civil for the rest of the school year, then there's no reason why you should have to be sent back to the island unless you want to go." A sudden realization hits him, "Wait. Mal. Is this what she thinks, that I'll just send her back?"

After Carlos and Jay glance at each other Jay remarks, "That's what we all thought."

"Oh, God." Ben stands from his chair, "I've got to find her. Where is she?"

"Mal?" Carlos asks, before he gives Jay a questioning look. "Probably with Evie, right?"

"Probably," Jay confirms, before he looks over at Ben. "Try their room."

"Okay. Thank you," Ben intensely responds, before he rushes to the door and heads out.

Carlos slightly laughs, "That poor guy." before he fills his large cup up with Mountain Dew. "How about a toast?"

Jay fills his glass with Dr. Pepper and clinks it with Carlos's, "To the Isle."

"The Isle," Carlos repeats, before he takes a drink and notices the confused faces around them. "Because we're still betting we'll get sent back there. Get it?"

Aziz looks at him questioningly, "But Ben just said you wouldn't be."

"Ah," Jay smiles. "But we know things you don't." Before anyone can ask any questions he continues, "I know that Ben isn't here now, but we should also do a toast to his coronation." He tops off his drink and waits for everyone else to do the same. "To Ben's coronation."

The rest of the team repeats, "To his coronation." before they messily squish their plastic cups together over the pizza.

* * *

\- "Poor guy." I just wrote what everyone was thinking. Seriously though, he's way too kind hearted and oblivious for his own good... and may I just add how sad it is that he always seems just one step behind Evie in everything he does, as far as when it comes to Mal anyway?... Maybe this comment is premature, but eventually you will get what I mean.


	19. Girls' Night

**Girls' Night**

 **(Day 5: Thursday Night)**

"So, Auradon sends the villains to the Isle and outlaws magic, only to let this Pixie company make a movie about supervillains and magical abilities."

Mal readjusts a pillow, "I don't know if it's magic. The powers don't seem magic based."

"Still," Evie contests. "There seems to be some very similar parallels here."

"Yeah. I suppose you're right," Mal submits, "to a certain extent. The government does end up outlawing their abilities and become very controlling over their lives."

"I think it's even worse in the movie," Evie speculates, "because their powers are like an ingrained part of themselves. It's not some skill they've learned like potion making. It's something they seem to have little control over."

"A lot like my hypnotism," Mal relates with a sigh.

Evie wraps her arm around Mal's before leaning on her, "It's going to be alright, M."

Mal smiles, but then there's a knock, "Ugh." She leans further into the stack of pillows and whispers, "Maybe if we're quiet and don't answer, then they will go away." Evie giggles, and a minute later there's another knock. "Uh. Okay. Fine." She pauses the movie and stands.

When Mal answers the door Ben comments, "Hey."

"Oh. It's you." She smiles, "Not to sound rude or anything, but why are you here? Weren't you supposed to be with Jay and Carlos?"

"That's why I'm here," Ben explains. "They said that since you're only exchange students that you all thought that I'd send you back to the Isle of the Lost after the school year is finished, but I don't plan to."

Mal grins in disbelief, "Ben. We're not from here. Do you honestly think that your citizens would be okay with letting a bunch of villain kids stay in Auradon?"

"You're my citizens too," he informs. "The Isle of the Lost is a prison owned by Auradon. It was never meant to act as its own country."

Mal's smile disappears, but it's replaced with a laugh, "Your father exiled over a hundred people to an island and isolated them from all outside contact. We don't even have Wi-Fi." She sees Ben frown, seemingly shocked by this news. "What did he think would happen? What else could we have done? What were we supposed to think?"

"Mal." Ben apologizes, "I'm so sorry that I put you through this, but I promise you that when the school year is over you will only go back there if you want to go back there."

Mal places a hand to her forehead, "Look, Ben. I'm tired, and I'm trying to watch a movie with Evie. I'd much rather continue this conversation after coronation, when you will inevitably change your mind." She sees Ben about to speak, "Until then." and leans forward to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll see you in the morning."

"You're watching a movie with Evie?" Ben questions, before he looks over her shoulder and sees the pillows and blankets on the floor. "Why are you laying down there?"

"Because Evie can't see the TV that well from her bed, and…" She gives him a look, "Do I really need a reason?" before she smiles. "Have a nice night, Ben."

"Yes. Nice night," he repeats before the door shuts in his face. He nods and finds himself clearing his throat, "Uh. Have a nice night." before he turns on his heels and strides back down the hallway.

* * *

\- For anyone who is wondering, the "Pixie" company is actually Pixar and the movie is The Incredibles.


	20. Potential Happiness

**Potential Happiness**

 **(Day 6: Friday Evening)**

"I should probably thank you," Mal begins, as she sits with Ben and his parents for the early dinner. "I'm glad I didn't scare you off or anything with what happened earlier."

"We're just glad that in the end you chose good," Belle smiles in reply.

"Yes," Ben's father agrees. "But I must say I still have some reservations."

Belle holds her husband's hand, "We both do."

"Nothing serious," he insists. "We're just a little…"

"Curious," Ben's mother offers. "How did this thing between you start in the first place?"

"Oh. Ahh," Mal uneasily responds, before she looks to her left at Ben.

He answers, "I was just trying to convince her to sign up for art class, and then, uh." He looks at his girlfriend for a moment, "Mal doesn't actually know this, but that talk caused me to find something intriguing about her. So, I went to check on her later."

Mal covers a part of her face with a hand in embarrassment, "And that's when I practically slammed the door in your face. Wow. I feel pretty horrible now."

Ben laughs, "I admit it wasn't very funny at the time, but looking back on it I admire how independent and strong-willed you are." He looks back at his parents, both not seeming to know what to think. "It just sort of continued from there."

"Huh hmm," his father responds with slight disbelief, before he sets a phone on the table before them all. "Then you won't mind explaining this."

Mal's eyes grow wide and Ben uncomfortably laughs, as a video of Ben's dance for Mal plays in front of them. Ben awkwardly smiles, "Someone recorded that."

"Yes, they did," his father answers. "Now. I know you hate to dance, especially in public, and I know you know how serious the things you sang are."

"It was just some foolish song," Ben reasons, and Mal can't help but grimace at how horrible his lie is.

"No," his father asserts. "The kingdom will see this and think that you are yet an incompetent child, but I know better. I know you must have done this for a reason."

Belle looks at her husband, "Adam. Love— even crushes— can make people do stupid things. He's already ashamed enough. Do you really need to interrogate him?"

"Yes. I do," Adam replies to her, but his sights never leave Ben and Mal.

"Really." Ben uneasily answers, "I just did it to ask Mal to the coronation. People do that kind of thing all the time."

"No. Ben, just stop," Mal interrupts, and Ben's father looks at her in concerned interest. "They're your parents. You shouldn't lie to them for me."

"I'm not lying," he horribly smiles in denial.

"Technically no," Mal sternly responds, "but Lying 101 is all about twisting the truth to fit your means or to leave parts out to make it sound better." She looks at each of his parents before saying, "I had him under a love spell at the time. Don't worry. It's not a thing anymore, but that's why he did that. I guess the chocolate chips made the potion really strong. I'm sorry."

"Sorry that the potion was so strong that it made him look like a fool," Ben's father growls. "You should be sorry for putting a spell on him in the first place."

Belle places a hand on her husband's shoulder in attempt to keep him fully seated, "Adam. Calm down." She smiles at Mal, "We're glad you told the truth, but you must know how bad this looks."

Mal tries to smile back, "Yeah. I do."

"I'm not sending her back to the Isle," Ben intrudes.

"No. Of course, not," his mother immediately responds, as if the mere idea is preposterous. "Honey. Just let me talk to the girl."

Mal rolls her eyes when Ben doesn't seem to budge, "They just want answers, Ben. I'm more than willing to give them to her." When Ben seems to relax a little Mal looks back at Belle, "I gave Ben the anti-love potion just before the coronation, but it was then that he told me that the spell had already worn off in the middle of our first date." She shakes her head, "Something about the magic pool of water we visited." before she smiles at him. "Nice to know that at least a little mischief is allowed here."

Ben smiles, "Your reaction was priceless."

Mal admits, "It did take me a minute to realize what you'd said." before she turns back to his parents. "I just figured that if I really was going along with my mother's super evil plan, then it would be just a little too mean to leave Ben under the influence of that potion. Little did I know that his feelings were— and are— actually real."

"And what about you?" Belle asks. "Are your feeling for him genuine."

Mal huffs a small laugh, "I never admitted to having any feelings." Ben's father shifts his seating as his mother expresses some discontent. "As I've already told Ben, I don't know what love is supposed to feel like, but I want to find out." She shuts her eyes for a second and slightly shrugs, "At the very least I like spending time with him."

"But you don't have a crush on him or anything?" she questions.

"I don't know," Mal sincerely answers. "I've always just been so focused on surviving, I guess I never really thought about crushes or attraction."

"So, you've never been with anyone?" Adam asks.

Mal half-smiles in disbelief, "What, is that some kind of requirement to date the heir of the throne? I've never had a boyfriend, if that's what you're asking." She looks down at her plate of potatoes, beef, and carrots. "But that doesn't mean that I've never done anything." When she looks back up, Ben's father folds his glasses in his hands, seemingly unsettled. "The Isle can be a really boring place. We have no television, Wi-Fi or internet, and no one really trusts each other enough to go over to someone's house for a game night. So, it gets replaced with things like alcohol, drugs, and sexual encounters. Not that I've really done much of those things, but it would be nearly impossible to find someone from the Isle who hasn't done any of those things."

"And which of those things have you done?" Adam sternly questions.

"I've never touched drugs," Mal begins. "I have had alcohol every once in a while, and as far as that other thing goes… I have some experience." She can feel Ben staring at her, "But it usually didn't go any farther than holding each other and making out."

"Usually didn't," Belle examines. "But then, that means—"

"Any other questions?" Mal interrupts as she looks between the former King and Queen.

"How many relationships have you had?" Adam interrogates.

"Are you asking how many people I've made out with or…"

"How many people did it go farther than usual?" he elaborates.

Belle glances between her husband and Mal, "You don't have to answer that."

"It was one," Mal answers. "It was this guy that I'd been hooking up with for over a year, but it happened a couple years ago. I ended it a couple years ago."

"A couple years ago," Belle repeats in slight shock. "How old were you?"

"I was fourteen," she answers without looking up. "He was fifteen." Mal feels a catch in her throat and tries to clear it. "Ah. Is there a bathroom I could use?"

Adam nods, "Ben. Show her where it is."

After Mal stands and Ben leads her out of the dining room, down the hallway, and to the door of the nearest bathroom, he notices her shiny eyes. "You should know, there is no law saying that a prince or king cannot date or marry someone who has had prior sexual relations. There used to be, but since that was out of fear of the woman already having a child, it was later deemed sexist and was repealed as result. You are still allowed to date me."

Mal tries to smile, "That's good to know." but then she nods and looks at the bathroom door. "Excuse me." She goes straight into the bathroom, afraid if she offered Ben a final glance that he may see her tears. The bathroom seems to be more of a restroom, now containing three stalls and a counter of sinks, and Mal places her hands down on the corner of the marble counters. She looks down, feeling tears escape her eyes as her breathing increases, and when she watches her vision change to infrared she stares up into the mirror. She remembers it all too well. _Come on, Purple._ How he'd touch her hair. _Everybody does it._ How he moved his hand up her ribcage. _I'm telling you, you're going to like it._ Mal blinks several times, as she watches her eyes glow brighter. She gulps and lets out an unsteady breath, before she tells herself, "Forget about it. Forget about what he did to you. Forget about Harry Hook."

After speaking her command into the mirror Mal tries to calm herself down, but even after her eyes return to their usual light shade of green, she finds she still remembers everything. She lays one arm on the counter, as the other is placed against the middle of her forehead in the form of a fist's side. All she wants is to forget, and how cruel is it that she isn't able to use her own power on herself. _Even for a moment. If I could forget just for one minute…_ She takes a deep breath, wipes her face, and washes any of the likely tear stains away, before she nods at herself in the mirror and heads for the door. This can't stop her. She won't let this keep her from her life or potential happiness.

* * *

\- Sorry, Ben, but not everything's about you.


	21. More

**More**

 **(Day 6: Friday Night)**

"Thanks for letting us hang out with Jane during the party," Carlos mentions as he and Jay return to their dorm. "I really hated seeing her all alone like that."

"Yes. It was pretty great of me, wasn't it?" Jay lightly laughs, before he moves closer to Carlos and places a hand near his jaw. "But now that we're finally alone." He lifts up his chin and leans in for a kiss, "How about we have some fun of our own."

There's another kiss, but then Carlos presses him on his shoulder, "Wait. Aren't you like tired or anything?"

"No," Jay answers. "Are you?"

"Not really," Carlos replies before his lowers his eyes in thought. "But everyone else will be, and they'll all be asleep soon."

Jay smiles, "Then I guess we'll just have to be quiet." before he leans in again. Carlos kisses back and smiles wide as he's pushed against the wall, but the loud sound causes him to look behind himself and frown at the door he'd just been knocked into.

He questioningly looks back at Jay and comments seriously, "That wasn't quiet."

"Come on," he laughs as he holds Carlos's hand and guides him away from the door. "The bed will probably be better."

Well, Jay was right about one thing: the bed was better, softer and more comfortable, and Carlos lays down on it as he watches Jay hover over him. Jay takes off his jacket and shirt, and after some making out he runs his hands up Carlos's front and pulls his shirt off as well. It's just them together and alone, embracing each other close, and there comes a time when Carlos can feel Jay's thumb sliding into his waistband. He shudders out a breath and tries to pull Jay closer again for another kiss, but Jay doesn't budge.

He looks at where his thumb is and asks, "What is that?" before he folds over the lining and sees the mark. "That wasn't there before." Carlos shifts away from him and sits on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at his own bed and the corresponding wall as he does so. "Carlos," Jay sternly comments. "Please, tell me you didn't do that."

Carlos gulps and shuts his eyes, as he remembers. He was alone in this room, and when he opened the drawer to his bedside table he saw it there. He saw it there and he just stared, until he found himself examining the lighter and sliding his left hand over the smooth plastic of the cigarette case. His mind was empty. He has no idea why he did it. All he knows is that he just felt like he had to do it, that he was pulled in to do it, and afterwards there was this feeling…

"Carlos," Jay removes him from his thoughts. "Why? Just tell me, why?"

"It was an accident," Carlos mumbles, not bothering to look back at him.

"Hell it was," Jay angrily responds. "Say it. I want you to say it."

"I'm sorry," Carlos sadly states, as he feels his eyes begin to warm from intruding tears. _He saw it. He saw it, and now he hates me._

Jay lets out a calming breath, and Carlos feels a hand move onto his shoulder. "It's okay. Just tell me you won't do it again."

Carlos remembers how the burn had felt. At first it was just hot and stung lot, but then it was invigorating. _Stimulating._

"Carlos," Jay says seriously. "Promise me that you won't do it again."

"Okay," Carlos whispers, but he still doesn't look at him. There had been something about it; when Jay had pressed on the burn, it somehow made Carlos want more.

"Okay," Jay accepts. "Now that this is over." He places his other hand on Carlos's arm, "How about we get back to doing what we were doing?"

Carlos begins to feel a little sick at the knowledge, the knowledge that the pain Jay had caused him had somehow made him more into it. He shakes his head and stands, "No. I'm not in the mood." before he finds his shirt and puts it back on.

"Not in the mood. What's that even supposed to mean?" Jay questions irritably in confusion. "You were just into it a moment ago."

Carlos doesn't look at him, "Crying gives me headaches. I'm going to see if I can get something from the nurse." before he heads for the door. He hears Jay complain about how it's past curfew, but he doesn't care. Even if he didn't have this headache, he still would have left. There's no way he could be around Jay right now, not while his thoughts remain focused on this issue. _He would ask questions. He would ask what's bothering me, and I wouldn't be able to admit to anything._

* * *

\- That's it for day six in Auradon. Review as you see fit.

\- Also, I just posted a teaser video to Youtube for Ben's storyline called "Behind the Scenes of Ben Beast". Because Ben's scenes in the movies are limited, the scenes and concepts from the video aren't going to be entirely accurate; however, it should still give you an idea of what his storyline will partly be about. (Let me apologize ahead of time for any horrible audio or music. The program I used made it so that when there's dialogue that the music lowers in volume, and the dialogue itself is a little hard to hear; however, I put the quotes in the comments section of the video so you know what they're saying.") Read the description if you want to know what the entire storyline of the video is about.


	22. I Asked for It

**I Asked for It**

 **(Day 7: Saturday Morning)**

"Hey," Mal sits down at the table for breakfast. "What's up?" She picks up a strawberry and bites into it as she sees Jay and Carlos give each other a brief, silent look. "That bad, huh?"

"We just don't have much to talk about," Carlos explains away.

"Or maybe a little too much," Jay contradicts.

Carlos shakes his head, "What about you? Where's Evie?"

Mal lightly laughs at the unfunny situation, "She's sleeping in. If she's sleeping, then she's not eating… so, yeah."

Carlos comments, "But her mother can't control her anymore. Shouldn't she be allowed to eat now?"

"Well," Mal heavily sighs, "clearly it's a lot more complicated than just that."

Carlos looks down at his own tray, as he remembers burning himself not even a week after his mother was unable to do it herself. "Yeah. I guess nothing's ever that easy, is it?" The question was rhetorical, but as each ponders over it there's momentary silence.

"We're in Auradon now." Jay tries to reassure, "Things will be easier and better for all of us now from this point forward."

"A fancy place doesn't change anything that's happened to us," Mal negates.

Carlos inwardly laughs, "All it does it make us freaks."

Mal watches as his mouth cracks open and he stares blankly at his half empty tray, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Carlos lets out a soft, slow breath. "I've just been thinking." He looks up at her, "What my mother did to me, what if she didn't always plan to do it to me?"

"She's psychotic," Jay spats. "I'm sure she never plans to do anything."

"No," Carlos shuts his eyes. "I mean—" He takes a stressed breath and opens his eyes, "What if I was asking for it?"

Mal gives him a look, "That's crazy. You never asked to be burned."

"No," Carlos confirms. "But I never did my chores—"

"You could have never finished your chores," Jay interrupts. "There was never any time."

"Yes. There was," Carlos disputes. "Especially with my social life, I definitely had enough time. I just spent all of my time doing other things."

"Like going to school and spending time with me," Jay angrily lists.

"Like going out to collect things and doing stupid experiments in my stupid treehouse," Carlos adds on.

"Still." Jay asserts, "You can't just give up basic needs and the things that make your life tolerable to fulfil your mother's every command."

"All I had to do was do my chores," Carlos looks away from him. "I was asking for it to happen. It's my fault it did."

"No," Mal disbelieves. "You can't blame yourself for something she did."

"But what if she thought I wanted it," he worries. "It wasn't always a punishment, you know. Sometimes she just did it."

"Because she's cruel," Mal states. "No one wants to get hurt like that."

"What if I did— What if she thought I did?" Carlos asks, before he remembers how he'd prepare for it by putting up his sleeve. "You weren't there. You don't know what happened."

"No. I wasn't there," Mal replies a little louder. "But I've been hurt too when no one was around to witness it." She falters into a whisper and shakes her head, "But that doesn't mean that it never happened. You can't blame yourself for what she did to you. I won't let you."

"You don't understand. I never fought her."

"Why does that matter? I've never fought my mother. Jay. What about you?" He merely shakes his head. "See," Mal points out. "As Doug would put it, the… abuse, it conditioned us to follow our parents, not fight them."

 _I must be saying this wrong._ "I never fought it. I submitted to her will, pulled up my sleeve, and kneeled next to her chair as she just sat there placing her cigarette upon my skin, half of the time not even bothering to look at me."

Jay's mouth gapes open, before he quietly questions, "She never even had to stand?"

"She'd tell me to be a good boy and go over to her," Carlos remembers. "I knew what she was going to do, and at the times where it had seemed like I had done nothing wrong, I would still prepare for it anyway." He doesn't look at either of his friends, afraid to see their expressions. "Sometimes she would ask about school or dinner, and then she'd offer for me to sit next to her in front of the TV. I'd pull up my sleeve, she'd glance at me, and then it would happen." After a long moment of his friends appearing to have nothing to say, he looks up and sees Mal's shock. He takes a quick look at Jay too, but his expression seems as neutral as ever. "It wasn't always obvious. What if sometimes I had just prompted her to do it? What if she thought it was something I wanted?"

"No," Jay quickly responds, his eyes shut, clearly not wanting to believe it. "She started it. You got used to it. You knew it would happen. You never prompted her to do anything."

Carlos takes a long, sad breath and stares down at his toast. It doesn't matter what they try to tell him, because looking back on it has made him realize it's most likely true. "Even if you did prompt her," Mal responds empathically, "she should have never done it. Whatever you thought you deserved or however you felt you may have failed her, you didn't deserve it." Carlos looks back up at her but doesn't speak. "What happened, it's not your fault. It was always hers."

* * *

\- What do you guys think. Did Carlos unwittingly prompt her to do it sometimes, or is he just reading to much into it and that you think she would have done it anyway?


	23. Then Drink It

**Then Drink It**

 **(Day 7: Saturday Afternoon)**

When Evie hears the knock she stands from the sewing machine, walks over to the door, and when she opens the door she smiles at Doug, "Checking up on us again?"

"No," he smiles. "Just you." When he sees Evie suddenly frown he continues seriously himself, "I just— I didn't see you at lunch. Sooo." He holds up the pink drink.

Evie furrows her brows and shakes her head, "What is that?"

"This?" Doug looks at it for a moment, "It's a smoothie."

"And that would be?"

His mouth gapes at the realization, "You don't know what a smoothie is." He sees her annoyance and explains, "It's just blended fruit, adding in some milk, cream, or ice cream. I rather do like the ice cream ones myself, but I didn't think you'd appreciate that."

"Doug," Evie interrupts. "I really do have some things I need to get done."

"Right," he calmly responds. "Well. It's just fruit." He hands it to her, "Here."

She just stares at it, unwilling to grab it, "How am I supposed to believe you?"

Doug looks at the ceiling for a second before widening his eyes back at her, "What? Now you don't even know what fruit looks like?"

It takes a minute for Evie to comment, "On the Isle our diet consists primarily of grain and canned vegetables. We don't get fruit. If we do it's either half rotten or placed in a container with syrup, which my mother never allowed in the house. It's just so bad for you."

Doug shuts his mouth and evenly expresses, "I'm sorry." He stares down at the smoothie, "I just figured that if nothing else, you'd at least allow yourself to drink something." He looks back up at her, "Really. I'm not trying to trick you. I just want to help."

"I don't have a problem," Evie whispers.

"Then drink it," Doug tries handing it to her again. "Just a sip."

Evie lets out a long breath and rolls her eyes, before she snatches the large cup away from him. "Fine." She places the straw to her lips and takes a sip of the cold, sickly sweet substance. "Yuck. What did you do, put a can of sugar in it?"

Doug takes the drink when it's shoved back at him, "No. I got it from juice place around the corner. I guess sweet stuff just sells more, but, uh, maybe next time we could make our own."

Evie doesn't know what to say, "I have stuff to do."

"I just—" He looks away for a minute, "I'd just really like to get to know you better." He looks back at her. "Is there anything you do like?"

Evie cracks a smile, "Lemonade?"

Doug smiles, "And what about food? Is there any food you find tolerable?"

"Nothing I know of," Evie admits, "but I hear celery is nice."

Doug nods, "How about this: would you like to have lemonade with me sometime, and then I could introduce you to some real vegetables and fruit like celery?"

Evie nods, "Okay. Sure."

He laughs, "Okay, then. How about tomorrow at lunch?" He sees her frown, "Or if you'd like to go somewhere more quiet we can always go outside."

"Outside sounds nice," she accepts, although her concerned frown remains.

"Okay, then. It's a date." He cringes, "Or not a date. Just a hanging out. You know?"

"Yes," she lightly laughs. "I know."

"Alrighty, then." He walks backwards and stumbles, "I'll just see you then, then." Evie sighs at the poor soul, before she shakes her head, heads back into her room, and shuts the door behind her.

* * *

\- I really hope I'm writing Doug clumsy and dorkish enough, even if it turns out to only be around girls he likes.


	24. I Don't Know What to Say

**I Don't Know What to Say**

 **(Day 8: Sunday Evening)**

The table is quiet, Jay and Carlos sitting beside each other, until Jay asks, "So. Where's Mal? Do you know?"

"Yeah," Carlos answers. "I think I heard Ben tell someone that he's going to have Mal join his Sunday family dinners."

Jay nods, "Okay." and after a moment of silence he glances at him. "Are we ever going to talk about it?"

"About what?"

He lets out a breath, "Well. You haven't exactly been… responsive. And you hardly speak to me now. What is it? Are you ashamed of what I found, because it only happened once, right? It just happened in some temporary moment of weakness, so there's no reason for you to be ashamed. It's not like you planned to do it or that you'll ever do it again." When Carlos remains silent he turns to him, "Would you just tell me what's going on?"

Carlos feels himself warm as an uneasiness settles in, "I don't know what to say."

"Just tell me if I'm right. Are you ashamed of what you did?"

"No. Yes." Carlos shakes his head, "I don't know. It didn't seem bad until… well, until you found out. And then—" He lets out a shaky breath, "And then I just felt sick, sick that it happened and I only cared what it had meant when I saw how you reacted."

"Are you saying this is my fault?"

The question had been sincere, surprisingly not dealt with any anger at all, and yet Carlos feels the need to reassure, "No." He's quiet for a second. "It's not you. It's me." He sees Jay place his head in his hand, "And I'm not just saying that. It really is just me."

Jay looks at him, "How do you think it's your fault?"

Carlos stares down at the blue tray. There's no way he could ever admit to what's been running through his mind, "I don't know what to say. It just is. Okay?"

"No. It's not okay," Jay stares at him. "If you really don't know what to say, then just try to explain it. I don't care how long it takes. I need to know what's going on with you." A girl walks by and says hey at him, but he ignores her bright smile. "Please. What is it?"

Carlos looks from the cheerleader to Jay, "What? You're not going to go make out with her or something?"

"Why would I?" Jay questions. "I'm talking to you."

"That's never stopped you before," he counters.

"Well, this is important. We need to talk, so we're talking."

Carlos looks back down at his nearly empty tray and realizes he hadn't even eaten the brownie yet, so he takes it to buy some more time. How is he supposed to tell him? He can't say that he really had burned himself on purpose, just to relive that feeling his mother had always supplied him with, and that since then that sense of relief and the sting and the relaxation have all been on a seemingly constant replay in his mind. He can't tell him that there is just something about it that he likes, something about it that made it so that when Jay had pressed against the burn that it had made the experience all the more pleasurable and how it just left him wanting more of all of it. "No. We're not talking about it."

"Why not?" Jay questions.

"Because some things are too horrible to say out loud," Carlos answers with stress, a little louder than he had intended, and after a brief look around the cafeteria he continues quieter. "There's just something I've been going through, something that I really don't want to even try to explain until I can figure it out." He sees Jay about to speak, but being able to understand the expression on his face, he doesn't let him. "I couldn't stand to tell you this and have you be so upset with me, only for it to possibly turn out to be nothing."

"For what to turn out to be nothing?" Jay calmly asks. "Is it the burn? Is it more serious than I thought it was?"

Carlos shakes his head and shuts his eyes, "It's not like that. It's just—" He opens them and stares at him for a moment. "I'm sorry, but I really can't explain."

"You said you would never hurt yourself on purpose," Jay reminds him.

"I know. Like I said, it's not like that. You don't need to worry."

"You promise?" Jay skeptically questions.

"I promise." Carlos repeats, "You don't need to worry."

"Then I believe you." He lets out a small laugh, "Everything is telling me not to, but I trust you. I can only hope that you know you can trust me too."

"It's not about trust." Carlos lets him know, "I just don't want to risk losing you." He looks away from him, "I know it's stupid, but it's true. I just really don't want to lose you."

Jay manages a slight smile, "I understand. But you will tell me, right, if it does turn out to be something?"

Carlos bites the inside of his lip before answering, "Yeah. Of course."

* * *

-Day eight only has one chapter, so I thought I'd give it to you as a bonus package to the day sevens I just posted. You're welcome.


	25. What Did She Make You Do

**What Did She Make You Do**

 **(Day 9: Monday Afternoon)**

"Well done, Evie. That was a very interesting perspective on the pirate James Hook." The teacher looks around the class and finds Mal doodling in a notebook. "Ah. Mal. I'd like to see what you've got for me now."

Mal sets down her colored pen and stands from her seat, but when she reaches the front of the classroom she informs the teacher, "I didn't exactly do the report. Can I improvise?"

"If you must," Mr. Turner answers.

Mal looks back at the class, "My report will be on Harry Hook, the son of Captain James Hook and a resident of the Isle." There's a few whispers, but Mal talks over them. "Harry Hook is exactly what you think of when you think of a pirate. He drinks, he steals, and he takes whatever he wants whenever he wants." Mal glances at the floor for a moment, remembering how he'd stolen her innocence. "He runs a crew with Uma, the daughter of Ursula, and their followers contain the sons of Gaston among many others. The docks and fishing areas are under their control, and after my friends and I abandoned the island I can only imagine they will be taking our territory as well."

There's silence before Mal continues, "Harry Hook is the most deplorable guy I know. Unlike many so-called villains of the Isle, he has no moral code or line he won't cross. He hasn't murdered anyone yet, but if presented with the opportunity I have no doubt he would. His gang constantly threatens people for money, they burn whatever they can't have, and they push alcohol and drugs onto the helpless so that they may stay helpless. So, all in all, Harry Hook wants to be his father and much, much more, and although it's hard for villain kids to match their parents' accomplishments while stuck on the island, it won't mean that he won't try."

Mal looks around the room before glancing at the teacher, "That's it."

The teacher nods, "Does anyone have any questions?"

Chad comments, "Yeah. I do." without even raising his hand. "How did you know this guy? Were you all buddy buddy with him or something?"

"Geeze Chad," a guy from behind him disapproves.

"What?" Chad replies. "It's just a question." He smiles at Mal, "So?"

"We did hook up a little," Mal acknowledges. "But after what happened… after I realized how horrible of a guy he was I left both him and the crew. That's when Jay and I got our own territory and soon after that we met Carlos and Evie and they joined." She watches as the class glances at her friends. "Any other questions?"

"Yeah." Audrey inquires, "You said how horrible they are and all of the horrible things they've done, so why didn't you leave sooner?"

Mal shakes her head at Ben's ex-girlfriend, "It didn't matter what they were doing. I was going to have to do horrible things to innocent people anyway."

"You didn't have to do anything. You could have just been good."

"No," Mal calmly comments. "I couldn't have."

"Yeah. You could have," the cheerleader retorts. "You didn't have to be mean to anyone. That was your choice."

"I had no choice," Mal yells, causing Audrey to lean back in her seat, seemingly startled. "I was going to be forced to do things anyway. If I was going to be mean to anyone, I at least wanted to be in control of my own actions while I was doing it." Mal lets out a long breath and shakes her head, "I just wanted my free will back. That's all I wanted."

Doug replies through his shock, "Your mother really did use her hypnotism on you." Mal takes a step back and stares at the floor for a moment, before she jets for the door.

Evie stands from her chair, calling after her, before she runs out into the hallway and yells, "Wait." She slows her pace, "Mal. Wait." and then Mal turns around. She walks up to her, and the closer she gets the clearer the tears are shown. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mal inwardly laughs as she painfully smiles, "Because it hasn't really happened in a while. Once I started to do those horrible things myself I was free… you know, aside from the occasional thing she really needed from me like stealing the wand, but yeah. It's—" She lets out a breath and the tears stop, "It's been a while. Way more than just a few years. By the time I met you so much time had passed… I guess I didn't think it was important anymore."

Evie takes a step forward, "What did she make you do?"

"What didn't she make me do?" Mal grins. "Just the usual things, I guess. Saying horrible things to young children. Stealing from the homeless. Pulling a gun on the butcher." She looks down at the floor and contemplates, "She made me do it all, because she thought that if I just did it once that I'd be able to do it again on my own." Mal's expression falters, and then she looks back up at Evie's attentiveness. "And she was right. After she made me do all of those things, I needed to have my free will back. I had to take control of the situation, because if I didn't— if she were still in control of me…"

Evie sees Mal about to cry again and goes in for a hug, "You don't have to say it. I know. I know, and it must have been absolutely horrible, but everything's okay now. You'll see."

Mal hugs her hard, "I did it to keep them safe. I couldn't bear it if— if—"

Evie feels the tears drop onto her neck, "I can't even imagine what you must be feeling right now." She tries not to cry herself, "But I'm here for you. You hear me?"

Mal's breathing slows, "Is that—" and she sniffles. "Is that strawberries?"

Evie laughs, "Yeah. It's, uh, my new body wash. I thought you'd like it."

Mal pulls Evie's hair from her neck to behind her back, "You smell really nice."

She feels Mal kiss her neck and uncomfortably laughs, "Okay, but it's not going to taste like strawberries." She places her hands on Mal's shoulders and moves her off, before she scans the hallway for prying eyes. "If you're in the mood for some… comforting," she offers, "then maybe we should just head back to our room. There is only like one class after this. We could just skip it… if you'd like?"

Mal smiles, reaching out for Evie again, "I very like."

* * *

\- Mal seems to have a lot of demons. We can't blame her for not letting out every single one, can we?


	26. It's Going to be Okay

**It's Going to be Okay**

 **(Day 9: Monday Afternoon)**

Evie lies still as she watches Mal sleep, her head lain on her shoulder and her limbs entangled over Evie as if she was something Mal had to guard and protect. She could stay in this position for hours without complaint, she thinks, as she takes in the quiet and comfort of the perfect moment. That is, until she hears a knock on the door. She tries to remove Mal's arm from her waist, but she only clings tighter. _She's too strong._ "Mal. You've got to let go of me."

"No," Mal whispers. "You're mine."

 _I'm hers._ Evie smiles, "Hey. Look. Is that a deer?"

"A deer," Mal repeats.

"Yes," Evie confirms as there's another knock at the door. "It's getting away. Go on. Catch it before it gets away." Soon enough Mal untangles from Evie to turn over, and Evie laughs, taking in the cute moment before the knocking interrupts them again. She takes in a deep breath and rolls her eyes in annoyance, before she answers the door, "Oh. Hey, Ben."

"Hey." His expression changes to curiosity as he points at her neck, "Is that a hickey?"

Evie slaps a hand to her neck, "No. It's just, ahh, makeup complication." before she swipes her hair over to hide it. "So embarrassing." She tenses a smile, "So. Why're you here?"

"To see Mal." He seems to suddenly forget what he'd seen, "Doug told me about what happened earlier. I wanted to see how she's doing."

"She's fine. She's asleep." Evie looks over her shoulder and sees Mal claw at the pillow, "I think she's pretty into it."

"Could I see her?" he asks, almost worriedly.

"I don't know if you can. I mean, she's asleep." She rolls her eyes, "Personally, I blame the schedule you Auradons keep. I'm not sure if you could really wake her."

"Could you at least let me try? I'm worried about her."

"Okay. Fine." Evie opens the door wider, "Come in, but don't complain to me if she attacks you." He laughs, and Evie smirks with a raised eyebrow. "You think I'm joking."

His smile drops, but it doesn't stop him from coming in and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Hey," he whispers. "Mal."

"Deer," Mal whispers back, but her eyes remain shut. "You are deer."

Ben smiles, "Well. I suppose it's better than beast." but when she doesn't respond he touches her shoulder. "Mal."

Immediately, Mal pulls her arm away and gasps, before her eyes widen and she lets out a breath of relief, "Ben. It's just you."

"Crazy dream?"

"I don't remember," Mal shakes her head and leans up on the pillows.

"I think it was about a deer," he tries to jog her memory.

Mal laughs, "Oh. Right. I was probably just hunting."

"Hunting?" Ben questions. "Is that something you did a lot of on the island?"

"Hardly," Mal smiles. "I've never gone hunting in my life. My mother's always wanted to teach me, but since there's not many animals on the Isle all I got was her words of wisdom."

"I can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic," Ben treads lightly.

"Both, I guess," Mal grins. "She may have been a villain, but she was still my mother. There were things she felt like I had to learn."

"About that," Ben frowns, before he looks over at the terrarium. "Not to disrespect her or anything—"

"Oh, no," Mal places the back of her hand over her mouth, before she looks over at Evie. "She saw the whole thing."

"Saw what?" Ben asks as he looks between the two of them.

Mal laughs, "Nothing. I was just upset earlier, and Evie and I were, um, talking." She looks away from Ben, "And I just can't believe my mom saw that."

When Ben still seems confused Evie uneasily informs, "Vulnerability really isn't a very good thing on the Isle— or anywhere, in fact. It's seen as weakness."

"You think your mother sees you as weak now," Ben looks back at Mal.

Mal huffs a laugh, "Yeah." not really wanting to explain to her boyfriend about her non-relationship with her best friend.

Ben holds her hand, "About your mother." He looks into her eyes. "I heard that she used her powers on you."

Mal's mouth opens, but no words come out. Evie takes a step back, "I'm just going to give you two some privacy." before she exits the dorm.

After she leaves Ben says, "It must have been a horrible experience… It's one thing for your parents to tell you to do something. It's another to have no choice but to obey them."

"It was horrible," Mal acknowledges, before she looks back up at him. "But it happened a long time ago, and it's definitely not the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "What could be worse than the loss of your free will?"

 _What could be worse?_ Mal remembers how she had all of the free will in the world to defend herself against Hook, but in the end it didn't matter. "What could be worse is having free will but still being powerless, still being forced to do something you don't want to do."

"I don't understand."

"Good." Mal takes her hand away from his, "Because I really don't want to talk about it."

He looks down for a second, "But you should." before looking back up at her green eyes. "It's not good to just bottle things up. You should talk about it."

"No." Mal stands from the bed, looking away from him. "Once a bottle gets cracked open, it can only break into more pieces. And it doesn't matter how much glue or tape you have. Once you see that bottle break, it will never look the same again."

"Really?" Ben asks as he stands and steadily walks over to her. "Because even after knowing what your mother did to you, I still don't see anything but that strong, determined girl I met the first day you got here."

Mal shakes her head, "You don't know what she did to me." before she turns around to face him. "Whenever there was a line I didn't want to cross, she'd push me over it." She takes a step forward, as if trying to scare him, "She made me do things. Horrible things."

He places a hand on her shoulder, "But that was all her. That wasn't you."

"It was my finger on the trigger," Mal yells as she takes a step back, and Ben's hand falls back to his side. "If he hadn't complied, then that butcher could be dead right now."

"But he isn't," Ben tries to uplift the situation as he nears closer to her. "And none of that is your fault."

"I've done things," Mal steps backwards until she's met with the windowed wall. "I've stolen things. I've hurt people." When she sees Ben is only a few steps away she lets out, "I've told children to kill themselves, and I was in complete control. I did that of my own free will."

Ben only falters for a second, before he goes in and wraps his arms around her, "You did what you thought you had to do."

"I meant it," Mal whispers. "When I told those kids that, I meant it."

Ben lets go of her and stares into her eyes, "I don't care. That doesn't matter to me."

"It should," Mal objects. "What if I hurt you?"

"You won't do that."

"How do you know?" she urges.

"I don't," Ben nearly yells, before he takes in a couple calming breaths. "But I love you, and I just have to believe that somewhere deep down you at least care for me."

"Ben," Mal begins to tear up.

"It's okay." He hugs her again and places a hand on the back of her head, "It's going to be okay."

* * *

\- A lot happened in this chapter. Let me know what you all thought.


	27. It's Not Your Fault

**It's Not Your Fault**

 **(Day 9: Monday Afternoon)**

"Why are we here?" Carlos asks.

"Yeah." Jay accuses Fairy Godmother, "You made the coach pull me from practice."

"I'm sorry about that," she sincerely responds, "but I'm afraid this is more important."

"What's more important?" Mal examines the situation with paranoia. Her and her three friends are seated in the headmistress's office. _Either we're all in huge trouble, she's giving us more required classes to keep busy, or…_ Her mind goes through multiple situations, none of them good.

"Can any of you tell me what abuse is?" the fairy godmother asks.

"On the Isle it was a term used for when someone in a relationship would physically hurt the other in unnecessarily extreme ways regularly," Mal calmly comments. "When Doug accused our parents of it I looked it up, and apparently it can be applied to parent-child relationships too, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"It's just one of the many concerns your friends have brought to my attention over the last few days," she answers, her hands folded in front of her. "They're afraid that your experiences may have impacted you negatively."

"Okay." Mal shakes her head, "But you already talked to me about this, and I told you that it wasn't abuse. Our parents did what they thought would help us and make us stronger."

Jay looks over at her questioningly, "You just admitted it was abuse at breakfast a few days ago. What? Are you in denial again, just because you don't want to be some stupid victim?"

Mal doesn't look at him, "No. It's just that abuse comes from ill intent and has negative outcomes. What our parents did was for our own good."

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "People have reasons for doing things, but that doesn't make it any less wrong." She glances at Carlos, "And what about your friend. I hear his mother has burned him? How was that supposed to be good for him?"

Mal's about to speak, but then Carlos mutters, "All I had to do was do my chores." as he stares at the floor. "I could have stopped it any time I wanted to."

"Except that's not how abuse works, is it?" the fairy godmother counters, before Carlos looks back up at her. "If it wasn't your chores, then it would have been how well you did them, and if it wasn't how well you did them, then it would just be something else." She looks over all of them, "The purpose here is to have you all recognize if it could have been abuse, and then you must accept that it's not your fault."

"But it is our fault," Mal disbelieves. "We should have found a way out."

The headmistress partly smiles, "Really? I hear your mother was using her hypnotism on you?" Mal looks away. "Now, how were you supposed to find a way out of that?"

"I wasn't talking about that," Mal whispers, before she looks up at her again. "But no matter what the situation was, it doesn't matter if we were born into it or if we stumbled upon it. We should have been able to escape. We should have been able to stop it, see it coming, or just something. Not just lay down and take it."

"Ah." Carlos corrects, "I think the expression is sit down and take it, not lay down and take it."

Mal falls silent before mumbling, "Same difference. We should have been able to defend ourselves. We should have done something."

"But what if there was nothing you could do?" the headmistress asks. "What if you just did the best you could to survive, that there were no good options?" She doesn't respond. "You need to accept that whatever happened wasn't your fault." The fairy godmother looks over them all, "You all do." No one speaks. "So. How about we do an exercise? Jay. Let's start with you." He looks at her in unsureness. "Name something your parents did to you, and then say it wasn't your fault."

It takes a minute for Jay to say, "There's this time where my father told me to go out and steal something good for the shop. So, I broke into Lady Tremaine's manor to steal their jewels, but they had a lot of cats. I was bitten and clawed, and I left. When I went back home with nothing my father was furious. He was furious, and— and—" He looks away from the headmistress. "It was my fault. He got mad because of me."

"No," Fairy Godmother assures him. "It's not your fault. Say it. 'It's not my fault'."

Jay remembers, "He was cooking dinner. He had this knife." He looks back up at her. "And he threw it. He threw the knife at me, but it wasn't— it wasn't."

"Not your fault," she reminds him.

"It wasn't my fault," Jay finishes.

"Good. Very good," the fairy godmother smiles at him, before she scans the others. "Who's next?"

Evie nods, "I'll go." and the headmistress warmly nods in response. Evie looks around as she recalls, "My hair used to be black, but my mother thought I'd look better blond. So." Evie laughs, "She poured a bunch of bleach into a bucket and stuck my head into it for what felt like an eternity." She grins as tears intrude her eyes, "And it burned. It burned like crazy, and when it was finally over we both knew I didn't look better that way. Of course, she never admitted to her mistake. I only know she knows it was a mistake, because when I went to get my hair dyed she didn't complain when she saw it. It was her mistake, and there was nothing I could have done to stop it." Evie nods, "It wasn't my fault." before she finally looks back at Fairy Godmother.

She nods in approval before looking between the remaining two, "Who's next?"

"This is stupid," Carlos comments as he sits up straighter. "What if it was our fault?" He looks away for a moment as he remembers everything, "I'm not going to say it was her fault if it really was just mine."

The headmistress's smile fades, "This isn't about saying it was your parents' fault. They could have had their own psychological problems, or as Mal insists, they may really have thought they were just doing what was best for you; however, that doesn't make it right. It's left all of you scarred in one way or another, and it's important that you know it's not your fault."

"But it was mine," Carlos insists.

"No, it wasn't," Jay sternly responds.

Carlos looks at him in disbelief, "Did you hear anything I said the other day?"

"Yes," Jay nearly cuts him off, "but I don't care. I don't care if you think you prompted her. Hell. I don't care if you asked her to."

"I didn't ask her—"

"Even more of a reason for her not to have done it," Jay interrupts him. "I know you love her and all, but she's cruel, and she's been nothing but cruel to you."

"That's not true," Carlos denies.

"No. Of course, not," Jay infuriates. "There's those times where you said she'd let you sit next to her on the floor like some kind of pet."

"Why do you have to be so mean?"

"Because you're not seeing clearly," Jay slowly replies.

"Okay," the fairy godmother interrupts. "That's enough, boys." When their attention transfers to her she comments to Carlos, "Your friend clearly has strong feelings about this, and he should. Your mother burning you with cigarettes is an absolute horrible thing."

"But it got worse the older I got," Carlos explains. "The more I thought she would do it, the more I prepared, and then the more it happened." He eyes the floor for a second, "I can't say it wasn't my fault if she thought I was asking for it."

The headmistress nods and takes a moment before replying, "Your friend Jay said that he didn't care if you did ask for it, even verbally, and neither do I." She shakes her head, "You're only a teenager, and I can only imagine how old you were when this all started. As the parent, it was your mother's job to take care of you, not punish you, and even if you thought you deserved getting burned she shouldn't have done it."

"But if I really did want it," Carlos begins.

"Then she shouldn't have given it to you," Fairy Godmother finishes. "When a child wants candy or a teenager wants illegal substances, you don't just give it to them. You do what's best for your child, even if that means denying them of the things they want."

"It's not like you really wanted it anyway," Jay comments. "No one wants pain. You may have predicted it would happen. You may have even thought you deserved it, but in the end no one wants or deserves the kind of pain your mother gave to you all those years. It's not your fault. You have to know that." Carlos stays quiet. "Go on. Say it."

"It's not my fault," Carlos says, but when he does this unsettling feeling grows inside him, as if he'd just told the biggest lie in the world.

Fairy Godmother nods before looking at the last person, "Mal?"

Mal blankly speaks, "My mother hypnotized me, because she thought it would make me a better villain. It wasn't my fault."

"Okay," Fairy Godmother nods. "You've all made a great step today."

"Great," Mal irritably responds. "Can we leave now?"

"Just one more thing," the headmistress replies, and soon after she hands a couple pamphlets to each of them. "I'd like you to do some research."

"On abuse?" Carlos questions. "We already said it wasn't our fault. You said it wasn't. What? Now you want us to look online and check for ourselves?"

"I just want you to research these things. There's more than just physical abuse, and it can come in many forms. It's important that you can tell the difference between what your parents thought would do you good and what they were intentionally doing to you." Carlos doesn't comment, so she continues, "People in abusive relationships can also be met with intimidating threats or unseen manipulation. You need to recognize it, so you may move past it."

"And what about this?" Jay lifts up a pamphlet on depression and suicide, "The Isle made us stronger, not weaker."

"That may be true," the fairy godmother carefully responds, "but one of your friends stopped by today. He's worried about how your experiences may have affected you mentally."

"Today?" Mal questions. "What? Was it Ben, because I'm not going to kill myself." She looks away momentarily, as she remembers the razor in her hands and the blood washing away in the bathtub. "I wouldn't do that."

The headmistress frowns in worry, "You told him that back on the Isle of the Lost that you would tell children to kill themselves."

"Seriously?" Jay questions in surprise.

"Yeah," Carlos comments. "That's a little messed up."

The headmistress watches Mal glance at her friends, but she ignores their reactions, "He said that you told him it was sincere, and he thinks that since you really meant it that you may have been subconsciously thinking about it yourself."

"No." Mal shakes her head in denial, "I've never ever thought about it."

"Still," Fairy Godmother nods down at the pamphlets. "I need you to do the research, and if you—" She looks over them all, "If any of you need help— for anything— don't be afraid to come see me. We can have a meeting like this, or if you need more help than I can offer, then we can get you in to see a professional." There's silence for a second, "Any questions?" They shake their heads. "Okay. Then you may leave." The students stand from their chairs, "Oh. Ah, Evie." Evie looks at her. "The school nutritionist would like to talk to you whenever you're ready."

Evie doesn't speak and only heads for the door, grasping for Mal's arm when they exit the office. She whispers, "You haven't actually thought about it, have you? About… about doing that to yourself."

Mal slowly shakes her head, "No. Of course, not."

"Good," Evie lets out a sad breath of relief. "Because I—" She looks into her eyes, "I love you, and I couldn't stand to lose you. You know that, right?"

Mal's mouth opens, before she replies, "Yeah. I know."

Evie sadly smiles and hugs her, "Good. Because I'm yours, and you can't just leave me like that."

Mal hesitates to place a hand on Evie's back, "I won't."

* * *

\- That's it for day nine. I hope you've all enjoyed.


	28. Hot

**Hot**

 **(Day 11: Wednesday Afternoon)**

"What is it?" Ben smiles. "You're not getting sick of picnics, are you? Because if you are, you should have told me. I could have taken you to a movie instead."

"No," Mal evenly answers. "I like the quiet and beautiful scenery."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Nothing," Mal denies, but then she looks up at him. "It's just— Why did you tell Fairy Godmother you're concerned about me? Now that my friends know, Evie's been keeping time every time I use the bathroom."

"I was just worried," Ben explains. "I'm sorry if it's made things more complicated with your friends, but I had to make sure you'd be okay." He places his hand to her face and whispers, "I love you. I couldn't bear to lose you."

Mal looks away from him, forcing his hand to drop back down, "You sound like Evie."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Ben questions. "I care about you, just as your friends must care about you." She doesn't look at him. "You're important to us. Losing you would be like losing a part of ourselves."

"But you were never going to lose me," Mal looks back at him in insistence.

"Maybe," Ben shakes his head. "But I couldn't take that risk." She looks away from him again, and he inquires, "Do you even know what you said, how it sounded? You were crying and listing every horrible thing you had done. You made it sound like you didn't think you deserved me. You made it sound like you didn't think you deserved to live at all."

"You're being dramatic," Mal disbelieves. "Sometimes I'm afraid of hurting those I'm close to, but that doesn't make me suicidal."

"So, what? You were just trying to push me away? There has to be more of a reason than just that, Mal."

She senses the heat coming off of him and smiles, "Let's not talk about this." She moves onto her knees and leans forward so that she can wrap her arms around him. "You're so hot." She kisses him and slowly moves down to his neck.

"Ah. Mal?"

She whispers, "I want you." before she guides his back down onto the red blanket.

He feels her hand move under his shirt, "You're avoiding the subject. You're doing this to forget about what's really going on." He feels her sucking on his neck, "Reckless actions of sexual behavior is a form of self-harm."

"Who told you that?" Mal whispers.

"There were required classes. They— They said—" He lets out an unsteady breath, "We shouldn't be doing this."

"We won't take it too far." She moves her hand under his back, "I just want to hold you. Kiss you." She kisses his neck again, "And." before she playfully bites it.

Ben releases a breath of defeat and places his hand on her back, "You're pretty feisty, aren't you?"

"Do you like it?"

"I don't know," he sincerely responds. "Audrey was pretty tame. You know, even if she was cheating on me."

"Really? She cheated on you?" Mal lightly laughs in disbelief.

"She never admitted to it, but I'm pretty sure it was happening for a couple months." He shuts his eyes when Mal begins to suck on his neck again. "It doesn't take a private investigator to know constant phone calls to the same guy and flimsy excuses are signs of cheating." After a moment of quiet he asks, "Mal? You'd never cheat on me, would you?"

She smiles, "You're the only guy for me."

"Good," Ben whispers back as they lie beneath the sun. "Good."

* * *

\- Key word: guy. Technically she didn't lie.


	29. Just One More Time

**Just One More Time**

 **(Day 12: Thursday Night)**

Carlos sits on the edge of his bed with his hands clasped together, as he stares down at the brown flowered carpet. No. There's no way he could be that stupid, but the longer Jay remains in the bathroom the more he finds himself wanting to do it. Maybe it's the pressure of the elapsing time. He doesn't know. All he does know is that he had hoped that keeping his hands together would lower the temptation, and yet it hasn't. _Just one minute._ He looks up at the bathroom door. _It would just be one minute._

He looks down at his bedside table and separates his hands, before he opens the drawer to reveal the cigarettes and lighters. He takes out a cigarette, runs his fingers over it once, and then grabs the blue lighter to ignite it. He just sits there for a minute, holding it in his left hand, as he watches the paper and tobacco slowly start to turn to ash. He sees how his right arm hangs over his knee, and he slowly moves the cigarette over it, positioning it so that it would be just below the inside of his elbow. He tilts the cigarette up, lowers it down, and watches in confused shock as it's taken away and put out on the table. "What the hell?" Carlos looks up and sees Jay half dressed, his hair still dripping wet. "What is this? What were you doing?"

Carlos looks away from him, "Nothing. It— it was nothing."

Jay stares down at the open drawer, "I saw you throw those away. I told you to throw those away."

He doesn't look at him, "I'm sorry."

"What? Did you get more?"

"No," Carlos mumbles. "I just threw the boxes away. There was nothing inside them."

"So, you lied to me," Jay accuses.

Carlos doesn't even try to deny it this time, "Yes."

There's a minute of silence before Jay finally asks, "Why? Why would you do this?"

"I don't know," Carlos immediately responds, but then he shuts his eyes as he cringes at the lie. He does know, or at least he thinks he does. Sure, there's been this overwhelming need to do it, but he started thinking about it even before that had built up. He had thought that if he could experience it just one more time, then maybe he'd be able to understand. _Am I just one of those people trying to feel something, or is it something I actually kind of like?_

"I think you do know," Jay comments as he sits across from him on his own bed.

Carlos shakes his head, "I just had to do it. Okay?"

"What do you mean, you had to?"

"It was just building up. It was all just building up." He glances at him for a moment, but only a moment. "It's the only thing that's ever been able to calm me down from it all."

"Calm you down?" Jay shakes his head, failing to understand. "What? You mean from the anxiety and fear you had from your mother, because that's over now. And how could your mother hurting you possibly make you less anxious or fearful of her?"

Carlos stays quiet for a moment, not really understanding it himself. "It relaxed me. There was just this feeling, this… it's stupid."

"No," Jay asserts. "Tell me."

Carlos looks up at him again, before he bites his lip and stares off in the other direction. "There was this relief. There was this sense that everything was going to be okay. It felt…" _Nice. It felt nice and— and good._ He shakes his head and places a hand to it. He must be crazy.

"It felt… what?" Jay prods on.

"Nothing," Carlos glances at the floor, before he forces himself to see Jay. He has to know what he really thinks of this, especially this next thing. "It may have hurt for a minute, but the pain never compared to those other things. The pain was only there for a moment, but it was necessary to act as a gateway to those other things."

"Like the relief?"

Carlos hears him get angrier as he watches him struggle to keep calm. "I know how it sounds, but I had to do it. Or… at least I had to try."

Jay shakes his head and responds in frustration, "You want to know how you sound? You sound like a drug addict."

Carlos rolls his eyes, "It's not like that."

"Oh. Isn't it?"

"No," he asserts. "Just because I wanted to do it doesn't make me an addict. You only think that, because you think it's harmful. But no one calls someone an addict when they're addicted to exercise or knowledge." He sees Jay about to draw a line between the comparisons, "And what about you?"

"Me?" Jay asks in shock, before it quickly turns back into anger. "What about me?"

"You're always hooking up with someone," Carlos points out. "That's not very good for you either, so why are you getting so on me about this?"

"Okay. First off," Jay laughs in stress. "The only person I've had sex with since I got here is you, and that's been what? A whopping total of two times?"

"Technically once," Carlos quietly corrects.

"See," Jay proves. "I'm not the one with the problem here; you are… And even if I still make out with people a lot, it's completely different."

Carlos blankly stares at him, "How? How's it so different?"

"Because I do it, because I like it," Jay sternly answers. "Not because I have to."

"What if you have to do it, because you like it?" Carlos contemplates.

Jay shakes his head, "I told you, I don't have to do it. I'm not addicted to it. If I was, don't you think I would have gone to make out with that girl rather than sit and talk to you at dinner the other night?"

"I get it." Carlos looks away from him, "You don't have a problem."

Jay huffs before nearly yelling, "What's wrong with you. What? Does not getting hurt somehow make you more irritable, or are you just this mad at me because I stopped you from doing it?"

"I'm not mad at you," Carlos whispers.

"Then what is it? What is it that's making you say these things and act this way?"

Carlos swiftly turns his head back at him, taking a deep breath before shouting, "Maybe I just want to be left alone." Jay falls silent, his expression becoming more neutral. "I'm not the type of person that figures things out through talking. When people talk to you, you're unable to stay in your own head long enough to figure everything out." He shakes his head and continues at a lower volume, "All of this prodding and interrogating you're doing isn't doing anything but confusing me even more. I needed time to think. Just because I haven't really spoken to you or that I haven't been, as you put it, responsive, that doesn't mean I'm mad at you. It just means I have too much going on to deal with anyone."

"Why can't you just tell me what you're dealing with? We could figure it out together."

"No." Carlos shakes his head, "You still don't get it." before he looks into his eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me. That's what I needed time to figure out, but I'm not going to be able to figure it out when people are telling me their assumptions or asking questions that may not even be relevant."

The room falls silent for a minute, before Jay softly asks, "What was I supposed to do, just stand there and watch you hurt yourself?"

Carlos looks down for a second, "I didn't even know you were there. If I had, then I wouldn't have even tried to do it"

"But you said you had to do it," Jay reminds him. "If that were true, then you would have done it whether I was there or not."

"It's embarrassing." He attempts to smile, but it barely forms before it falls back down, "And, I guess, with how everyone's reacted to it… it's just made me so ashamed too."

"Did I ever make you feel that way?" Jay questions.

Carlos doesn't want to make him feel bad, but as he remembers how Jay had reacted to the burn while they had been making out, he knows he has to say, "Yes."

Jay shuts his eyes and lets out a breath, "I'm sorry." and there's a moment of quiet before he continues. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is to make you feel ashamed of yourself. I just really don't understand why you're doing this."

Carlos laughs at the unfunny situation, "That makes both of us." but he doesn't smile. "Part of the reason why I was going to do it was just because I don't understand what I'm getting out of it… I just thought that if I did it once— just one more time— then I could figure it out."

"You know that it's never just one more time."

Carlos smiles and places a hand to his head, "Yeah. I— I know."

"Look." Jay scoots to the edge of his bed and reaches for Carlos's hand, "I don't want to make you feel like you have to lie. You may need space to figure this out, but you can't go through whatever it is that you're going through alone. If I promise to try not to prod you with so many questions, then can you promise me that you won't lie to me anymore?"

Carlos nods, "Yeah." as he holds onto Jay's hand.

"Good," Jay smiles.

Carlos looks from his hand to him unsurely, "If we're going to do this… you should know that I will probably try to do it again."

Jay frowns but nods, "Okay."

"And when I do," Carlos continues, "I don't want you to stop me or freak out when you find out." He sees him about to speak, "I don't want you to feel guilty about it. You need to know that what I'm going through, it has nothing to do with you. And don't beat yourself up over the prospect of not stopping me, because you know that even if you were to throw all of these things away and keep your eyes on me that I'd just find another way to do it." Jay shuts his mouth. "Whatever's going to happen, it's not your fault. When it happens, it will be nothing more than my decision and my choice."

"But you're sure it's a choice, then?" Jay asks.

Carlos inwardly laughs, "Even if it's not a choice, it's still happening for a reason." He looks away for a second, "I don't know how else to figure this out other than to just test it."

"This isn't one of your science experiments," Jay warns. "It will have lasting effects."

"I know."

Jay nods, before he brings himself to say, "Just be careful. If you take it too far— if you need help—"

"Then I will let you know," Carlos assures him. "But, honestly… I don't think it's going to turn out like that. When I said before that there's a chance that this is nothing, I wasn't lying."

Jay takes his hand back and stares down at the ground, "Then why do I feel so horrible?"

"Probably because you were never a villain." Jay looks back up at him, and Carlos can see slight shock peeking through his sadness. "You were always a hero. You may have stolen things, but you were always there when someone was in desperate need of help." Carlos looks away from him, "And it's probably because of that that I feel pretty shitty for practically making you ignore what's happening to me" He looks back up at him, "But I honestly don't know what else I could possibly do."

It takes a minute for Jay to come up with enough courage to say, "If this is something you really have to do, then I won't stop you."

* * *

\- That's it for days eleven and twelve. Next up is Day 15, the start of Ben's storyline. I think you're really going to like it.


	30. Submissive King

**Submissive King**

 **(Day 15: Sunday Morning)**

"What's everyone whispering about?" Ben asks, as he glances around the cafeteria. A group of guys are laughing, and some of the girls appear to be a little annoyed.

Doug looks around, "I'm not sure, but they seem to be staring at you."

"Why do you think it's me?"

"Hmm. Let me see," Doug slowly responds. "I'm nothing more than a clumsy dork, and right next to me sits the new ruler of Auradon. Hmm. I wonder who they could be talking about."

"Okay," Ben lets out a stressed breath. "I get it. They're talking about me. But why?"

"Didn't you have some contract with the news networks?"

"Them and the paparazzi." Ben shakes his head, "The idea was to keep my personal life out of the spotlight."

"Until you became king," Doug reminds him.

"Oh, man. You're right." He takes a bite of his toast as Doug takes out his phone. "But I'm not a scandalous person. I have nothing to hide."

Doug laughs, "Everyone has something to hide." but then his smile slips.

"What is it?" Ben worries.

He slowly shakes his head, "Nothing. It's nothing." but soon his gaze moves up towards a towering Chad, and Ben's sights follow.

"It finally makes sense," Chad smirks. "You're not stupid. You're just a pushover."

"What are you talking about?" Ben disbelieves.

Chad's smile turns into an arrogant grin, "When you brought those villains here. They must have convinced you to somehow."

Doug stares blankly at him, "Chad, stop being an idiot. The island has no contact with the outside world. How could they have convinced him?"

"They have magic. Some are even animals, human hybrid creatures. They could have found a way." He glares at Ben, "And now they're here because of you. You let them into Auradon, and all because you're such a pathetic pushover of a king."

Ben feels his temperature rise, as his anger flares, but he tries to take calming breaths; although, they end up short and shaken, "Why don't you stop being such a jerk, Chad, and just go away."

"Why? It's because you know I'm right, isn't it? You know I'd make a better king than you, and all that needs to happen for that is for the kingdom to overthrow you."

Ben clenches at the napkin, before he growls, "Go away."

Chad's eyes widen as he takes a step back, and he uneasily bows, "Yes. Your beastliness." before he turns on his heels and hurries over to his own table.

"Beastliness?" Ben questions.

"A combination between beast and your highness," Doug guesses, before Ben looks at him in confusion. "You growled at him."

Ben looks down at his plate, "No. I didn't growl. I just told him to go away."

"That's what you growled," Doug explains. "And it wasn't one of those joking ones you sometimes do. It sounded like an actual animal growl."

He shakes his head and grabs his toast, "I was eating. Something must have gotten caught in my throat."

Doug shakes his head, "If you say so." before he looks over him carefully. "Are you alright? You look a little…"

"Flushed?" Ben offers. "Yeah. I probably have a fever now. I hate getting mad. It always just makes me feel so… sick." He places a hand to his head and looks over at Doug, "Come on. Are you going to tell me what you found, or do I have to take the phone from you?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asks. "I mean, if you're not feeling well—"

Ben grits his teeth, "Tell me."

"Okay. Okay." Doug takes in a deep breath and slides away a little, before he takes another look at his phone, "The Weekend Post just posted some of their articles online. There's one here about you… and it's accompanied by a very interesting picture of you and Mal."

"What do you mean, interesting?" Doug doesn't speak, only offering him a concerned look. "Hand it to me."

"It could have been worse," Doug tries to negate as he hands the phone to Ben, but when his roommate receives the phone he can hear a growling coming from his throat. "It's not like they caught you two actually doing anything. You're just on a date… making out."

"Did you even see the headline?" Ben infuriates. "Submissive King. That's what they think this photo implies."

Doug calmly comments, "No one's actually going to believe it. Everyone knows that a person's sex life doesn't necessarily determine who they are as a person."

"Everyone except Chad, you mean." Ben tries to skim through the article, but the only thing he can focus on enough is the line that says: you know what they say. What you do when you think no one's watching determines who you really are.

"Chad's an idiot," Doug counters. "Of course he would believe this, but I bet they only titled it like that for views. The content could be completely different."

Ben sets the phone down between them, "No. It isn't." before he shuts his eyes and tries to slow his breathing. "I think I'm going to skip practice."

"And do what?" Doug asks. "Go to your parents' early?"

Ben's mouth gapes open, "Oh, no. They read the paper. Like, the literal paper. When they see that picture of me and Mal it's going to be a five by five detailed photo."

"God," he whispers. "These people really don't think of who's going to see these things when they post them, do they?"

Ben tensely laughs, "No. Of course, not. They're very shortsighted like that."

* * *

Ben slowly walks into the dining room, and his parents look at him. "Mother. Father." He takes a step forward, "You didn't see the paper yet, have you?"

"Son," his father grimly replies. "What do you think I'm holding in my hands?"

"Oh. Right," Ben looks away from him for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"For whatever for?" his mother laughs.

"I don't know," Ben tiredly replies. "I just feel so stupid. I didn't even remember that that contract ended once I became king."

"You went to a secluded area, and they followed you," his father points out. "You did what you could. If they were that desperate to get a story, then they might have even followed you here. You couldn't have been any more careful. This isn't your fault."

"Still," Ben shakes his head. "I should have known. I should have known it was a possibility. I should have been more prepared. I— I—" He takes a few steps toward the table and plants his hands down onto it, as he lets out a long, shallow breath. "I don't feel very well."

His mother walks over to him and places the back of her hand to his forehead, before she looks at her husband, "He has a fever."

Ben takes a seat, "It's nothing. Probably just stress."

"Stress is a killer," his father reminds him.

"Especially for me," Ben finishes. "Yes. I know."

His mother takes a thermometer from her small bag, "Here. Take this."

"This is ridiculous." Ben resists the urge to roll his eyes, "I always have a fever." before he places the thermometer under his tongue.

"Which is why we need to be extra careful," his mother reasons.

Ben watches as his father rings the kitchen bell, but with the object in his mouth he's unable to complain. When Mrs. Potts comes in all his father has to say is, "Ben has a fever." for her to confirm that she'll get something to help.

When it finally beeps Ben comments, "You didn't have to do that."

"Oh. Really?" His father nods down, "What does it say?"

Ben looks down at the number, "One O' Two."

"One O' Two point what?"

"Point two," he irritably replies, before Mrs. Potts strides in and sets the items in front of Ben.

His father smiles, "Thank you." before the servant exits the room.

Ben takes a sip of the Alka-Seltzer fizzy drink, "So. It might be a little high." before he eyes the ibuprofen. "But is all of this really necessary?"

"You know it is."

Ben takes a deep breath before downing the pills, "Yeah, but… aren't you ever afraid that I'll gain some kind of tolerance or something?"

His parents give each other a look, before his mother replies, "Let's just hope that doesn't happen." She puts the thermometer back into her bag and smiles. "I'm going to get a puzzle."

"Noo," Ben lets out as his mother walks away. "Mom!"

"Don't worry," she calls back. "I'll make it a nice, big one."

Ben shakes his head and takes another drink of the medicine, "I hate puzzles. Why do we always need to do stupid puzzles all the time?"

His father smiles, "The idea is to focus your mind on a calming activity, until enough time has passed for you to be objective with the current issue."

Ben huffs a laugh, "The article is making people think that I won't make a good, strong king, just because I was letting my girlfriend take the dominant position. How am I not supposed to take that personally?"

His father clasps his hands and stares down at the dining table, "You probably don't know this, but when your grandfather was on his deathbed he still questioned if I could be a monster." He looks up with a sad expression, but Ben is too shocked to speak. "If I can look back on that and not take it personally, then you can learn to stare at news fluff pieces of scum reporters and be objective about it."

"Why did he think you may still have been a monster?" Ben softly asks.

It takes a moment for his father to put his thoughts into words, "When you spend half of your life living as an animal, it can be hard to readjust to a human life. And it did take me a while to adjust. I didn't always make good choices or behave in the right way… sometimes I still don't." He looks straight at Ben, "It didn't matter how nice the staff was or how much I've cared for your mother, and it didn't matter if I was royal or that I could provide properly for her. In the end he still thought that she deserved better than me."

"What do you think?"

His father tries to smile, "I think that I'm very lucky to have found love and someone who loves me, regardless of how rocky it may have started or how many mistakes I've made since then."

* * *

\- Yeah. And what "mistakes" were those exactly?


	31. Much Worse

**Much Worse**

 **(Day 15: Sunday Afternoon)**

"Hey, Doug." She spins him around, "I've been looking for you."

"Oh. Hey, Mal."

"Do you know where Ben is?"

"Oh. Yeah," he remembers. "He went to his parents' this morning."

She nods, "Okay. Thanks."

Doug sees her walk past him, "Wait." before she turns back around. "He wasn't feeling well. You should give him and his parents some time alone. You can see Ben at the family dinner you guys have tonight."

Mal takes a step towards him, "What do you mean, he wasn't feeling well?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "He just wasn't feeling well."

Mal takes another step, widening her eyes and staring into his, "Tell me what you know."

"Chad made fun of him, and then he saw that article. I think the stress made him sick."

She smiles, "Thank you, Doug. You've been the most of help."

When she turns away again he says, "You should leave him alone. He shouldn't have any reminders of that article around him right now."

Mal glares at him in disbelief, "I'm a reminder?"

"Come on," Doug hopelessly comments. "Don't be like that. I know the article couldn't have been any easier on you, but I'm just looking out for him."

It takes a moment for Mal to respond, "Fine. I'll give him time or whatever." before she turns once again and heads down the hall.

* * *

"She should have been here by now," Ben worries.

His father gruffly replies, "She's from the Isle of the Lost and is also Maleficent's daughter."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His father takes a calming breath before sternly explaining, "It means that I'm pretty sure she can take care of herself." Ben doesn't respond, only staring at the meal-filled table. "You don't have to worry. She'll be here." He looks across the room, "Speaking of which."

Ben turns around and smiles, as Mal walks in and sits down next to him. "Hey." She places a hand to his cheek, "I heard you were sick."

He grins, "No. I'm fine now."

She smiles, "Good to know." before going in for a kiss.

Ben's father pretends to cough, "This is still a family dinner."

"Yes." Mal shuts her eyes for a second and grins, "Sorry."

Belle smiles, "So. How was your day, Mal?"

She laughs in stress, "Well. You know. Not all that great." before distracting herself by pouring milk into her glass. "I've been called manipulative more than once for starters."

Adam chuckles, "Everyone can get to be a little manipulative. Especially teenagers and businessmen, I think." He lifts up his glass, "It's called persuasion." before taking a sip.

"Yeah," Mal unsurely agrees. "But it doesn't matter now… I think I scared them off."

"How?" Ben asks.

She shifts slightly, "It wasn't really on purpose. I just kind of, you know, glared at them."

"That's it?" he questions. "It doesn't sound very intimidating to me."

Mal laughs, "That's only because you haven't seen the worst of me." before she scoops up some stuffing and takes a couple slices of the ham. "When I get upset my eyes sort of change." She sees Ben's neutral expression paired with apparent interest. "I've been told that it can be a little freaky."

"What? You mean kind of like during the coronation when your eyes glowed?"

She looks back at her plate and uneasily responds, "Or exactly like that."

"I thought that was a magic thing," Belle comments.

"Ah, no," Mal uncomfortably laughs. "It's more of a genetic thing, really… My eyes don't even glow when I do spells."

"Well, if it's not a fairy thing, then what is it?" she inquires, but for some reason Mal can't help but feel it to be some kind of accusation.

Ben looks at his mom, "I know you love to learn about things, but maybe Mal should tell us some of this when she's ready to."

Belle nods, "Of course. Sorry, Mal. My curiosity can get the best of me."

"It's fine," Mal replies quietly, before she take a bite of the meat and it hits her. "Wow," she whispers. "This is really good."

"Have as much as you'd like," Adam offers. "There's more than enough to go around."

Mal stares at the large cut up ham. She's been so hungry for such a long time that she could probably eat the entire thing, but she won't. She shakes her head. _I can't be greedy like my mother._ She glances at Ben's family. _And there's no way I'm letting them see me like that._ She tries to smile, "I'm fine, but thank you."

"Are you sure?" Ben asks. "Because your stomach seems to be growling."

"It always does that," Mal bypasses. "It never seems to matter how much I eat. It always does that."

"Ah," Adam exclaims. "The appetite of a teenager. I remember it well. Boy, would I never want to go back there again."

"I'm sure the animals would thank you for that," Belle smiles.

"Animals?" Ben questions. "What? Were you hunting wolves or something?"

"It would have been deer or elk," Mal interrupts, and they look at her. "Wolves run in packs. You would have been injured."

Belle lightly laughs, "Well. She's not wrong."

"Indeed," Adam agrees, before he smiles at his wife. "If I remember correctly, you saved my life that day. Did I ever thank you for that?"

"No," Belle shakes her head. "I think you were a little too busy saying how much it hurt, growling at me, and blaming me for you getting hurt in the first place."

"Right," Adam slowly lets out, as he recalls it all. "I should apologize for that."

"Yes. You should," Belle smiles.

"I am so terribly sorry for that night and everything else that I had put you through during that rough time."

"I accept your apology."

Mal looks between the two of them, "That's it? You're going to accept his apology just like that?"

"We've been married for a long time," she calmly explains. "When it comes to love, apologizing for something that happened over a decade ago is only a formality. Although, it is still very nice to hear."

Mal looks down, "I don't know if could do that."

"Accepting an apology is an important part of moving on with your life."

"Maybe, be still." She looks up at her, "I'm not sure if I'd even want one. When you need an apology, it implies that you've been wronged or victimized. I couldn't do that."

"What else are you supposed to do?" Ben questions. "Just continue on with thinking it was your fault?"

"Yes," Mal looks at him, but she's unable to stand to see his shocked, sad expression. So, she stares back down at the plate and silver utensils. "It was my fault."

Ben shakes his head, "I thought Fairy Godmother took care of this."

Mal observes how the light beautifully shines off of the steak knife beside her plate, "She brought us all in, but I wasn't into it. So, I just said it… and then I left."

"Mal. Nothing your mother made you do— nothing you had to go through— none of it is your fault."

She places her hand next to the shiny object and runs her forefinger down the smooth surface, "After everything I told you that I did, and you still think I'm innocent. But I'm not. I've done things— horrible things— and I had planned on doing much worse." She tests the sharpness of the knife, "I almost killed someone."

"You mean that butcher your mother had you pull a gun on?" Ben asks.

"No," she softly answers. "That guy I mentioned before… the one I had been with. I planned to kill him." She touches the point of the blade and scrapes her finger against it. "I had it all planned out. I was going to go back to his crew, apologize for my stinginess, pretend to be his girl and spit in his drink, and then I was going to torture him until he died."

"But you didn't," Ben reminds her.

"Only because I knew it wouldn't change anything," Mal disputes. "But what if I told you that I still thought about it, that I wish I could have done it when I had the chance? Surely I would deserve some kind of punishment."

"Like what?" Ben exasperates. "Like sending you back to where all of this happened in the first place?"

"Or death," Mal calmly comments as she continues to transfix on the knife. "All of the people I've hurt. All of the people I will hurt. They'd be relieved. They'd be safe."

Ben takes her hand from the knife and holds it, "No one deserves death." and not a moment afterwards Mal watches as Belle reaches over to slide the knife away and add it to her own. Her mouth is left slightly open, but she doesn't speak. She just expresses a concerned carefulness of which Mal looks away from to turn to Ben. "No one deserves to die over some stupid mistake or emotional outburst. There's a reason why the death penalty no longer exists. It was deemed inhumane."

Mal slightly laughs. "Well, I'm not exactly human, am I? I'm a monster," she remarks louder. "Just like my mother."

"You're not a monster," Ben denies.

"Are you sure about that?" Mal insecurely questions, before she glows her eyes at him. "Tell me the truth. What do you really think of me?"

"I think you're a beautiful, wonderful girl who needs help." Mal stares down at the table, as she feels a couple tears escape her eyes. Ben realizes what he had said and looks at her, "Not that you're weak or anything. You're very powerful, but you have to know that the way you're thinking… it isn't very good."

"I'm just so tired of everything," Mal lets out a breath. "Sometimes… sometimes I just wish that it'd stop, that it would all just stop. And go away."

There's silence for a minute, Ben placing his free arm over Mal's shoulders, before Belle evenly responds, "I think you and Ben should skip school tomorrow."

Adam looks at her in surprise, "Really? That doesn't sound like you."

"Yeah," Ben lets out in emphasis. "I agree. You pride yourself on education. You're practically the poster woman for learning, and you think we should skip?"

"If you think about it, it's the best option," Belle reasons. "You skipped practice, because you weren't feeling well. If you go back tomorrow, then people may end up thinking you were just faking it to avoid the outcome of the article. And Mal." She warmly smiles at Mal, "I don't doubt that you've had a very hard life. First, you're raised in a prison, and then when you finally get out of there your mother has you trying to free her. With that, the sudden dating of my son, the coronation, and that news article… well, I think you deserve a break. From everything, as you said." She nods, "This should help you both greatly."

"Are you sure about this?" Ben asks.

"I'm completely sure," she confidently responds. "Just make sure you stay here. There's no point in taking a break from the outside world if you're just going to go out there anyway."

He smiles, "Does that include TV?"

"As much as I should keep you away from television, I'm just going to ask you to stay off of the news channels. Try a cartoon or whatever you kids watch. So long as you do that, then there shouldn't be any problems."

Except that there would be a problem. Mal unsurely comments, "As great as your offer is, I was planning on taking a bath tonight and I have no clothes with me."

"Then I'll lend you something to wear," Belle solves. "Like I said, I think it would be a great idea for you to stay the night, and I'm sure we can find something in your size."

"In my size maybe," Mal tries to smile, "but how about something that doesn't clash with my hair?"

She smiles back, "I'm sure we can find something."

"What is your natural hair color?" Adam asks.

Ben takes his arm off of Mal, "Dad. Maybe you shouldn't—"

"No. It's fine," Mal frowns. "I'm not a guy or an aged woman. I can answer this." She widens her eyes at him, "You want to know what my natural hair color is? It's purple." She brings a hand to her dark hair. "This shade of purple."

He slowly questions, "Why is it purple?"

Belle looks at her husband with raised eyebrows, "Adam. You can't just ask someone why their hair is purple."

"Oh. Right." He pretends to clear his throat before apologizing, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean— It's just that it's not that common."

Ben shakes his head, "Dad. You're really not helping yourself here."

"It's just hair," he tries to explain. "I didn't think—" He lets out a defeating breath, "I wasn't thinking."

"No one thinks," Mal surmises. "I must have been asked those same questions dozens of times since I've arrived here, but the reality is no one would ever ask a blond why they're blond. And the thing is, I'm no different than a blond. My hair is still a genetic thing, and it doesn't matter where it came from or what my heritage is. It doesn't change who I am as a person."

Adam solemnly nods, "I understand that now. I'm very sorry."

It's quiet for a moment, before Mal glances between him and Ben. Like Belle said, accepting an apology is what lets people move on, so she mutters, "I accept your apology." but after she says it she soon wonders if anyone truly means it or if it's supposed to make anyone feel any better at all.

* * *

\- Yes. Mal was going to "apologize" for her stinginess, because that's all what people thought it was whenever she tried to explain to them about the situation of what Hook did to her. (Because the idea that I'm trying to present throughout this fanfiction, which may not become clear to everyone, is that on the Isle they had terms like "abuse" and "rape" but that it was only really used in worse case scenarios. Since there was no big age difference and since her and Hook had been doing other things together prior to the incident, a lot of people from the Isle probably wouldn't interpret it as rape. At the most, it would probably just be seen as some horrible, unfortunate situation never really to be spoken of.)


	32. Suicide Watch

**Suicide Watch**

 **(Day 15: Sunday Night)**

"I know you probably don't want an apology," Belle says as she shifts through the clothes in the closet, "but I really must apologize for what my husband said earlier."

"It's fine," Mal tiredly responds. "He didn't ask anything anyone else hasn't… I just wasn't expecting one of my boyfriend's parents to say something like that to me."

"He's a very stubborn man, and he really doesn't like to be wrong," Belle tells her. "You made a greater impact on him than you know."

"I guess that's good," Mal quietly responds. "But I'm pretty stubborn too, and yet I haven't ever asked anyone why they looked a certain way."

Belle laughs, "No one is as stubborn as Adam… You know, he didn't even tell me what his name was until after he returned to his human form?"

Mal laughs in shock, "How? What were you supposed to call him by, then?"

"That's what I asked him." She sighs, "I remember his answer like it was yesterday." She smiles warmly at her. "He said a lot of people just call him a beast, so to just stick with that."

"So," Mal questions, "while all of that love was building up to break the curse, you didn't even know his name during that entire time?"

"Something as simple as a name doesn't matter when it comes to love. All you need to love someone is to understand them and know who they are as a person… along with being compatible, of course."

 _I'm telling you, you're going to like it. No._ Mal pulls his hand out of her shirt. _I don't want to do this._ He bares his gritted teeth in a smile, before he forces her hands above her head and holds them there with his hook. _I get it. You're shy, but you'll thank me for this later._ He runs his hand down her cheek. _Come on, Purple. Just imagine how much heat you'll be able to get from me like this._ "No. I said no," Mal shuts her eyes as she mouths the words.

"Are you okay?"

Mal opens her eyes and tries to smile, "Yeah. It's just—" She gestures, "You were right. A name doesn't mean anything if you don't know who the person really is."

"Anything you'd like to talk about?" she offers.

Mal laughs, "No. No. I'm fine. Really."

"Okay, then," Belle frowns with concern, before she looks over the items in her hands. "These should fit you, and I don't think grey or black will clash with anything."

Mal takes the light grey, shoulder hanging sweater and the black sweatpants, "Thanks."

Belle smiles, "No problem." before she shuts the closet doors. "Now, for your room." When they step into the hallway she comments, "I know you're technically just a guest, but I think I'll have you stay in the west wing closer to us." They walk down the hallway and stop in front of a door, but just as Belle's about to open it she pulls her hand away. "You know. I think I'm just going to look around it first and make sure everything is suitable for you."

Mal sees her unsureness, "You have servants."

"Yes," Belle strains a smile. "I'd just like to check a couple things first, though." She places her hand on the doorknob, "Please. Just wait here. I'll only be a moment."

Mal frowns as she watches Ben's mother scoot through the opening, before she shakes her head and takes out her phone. There's five text messages from Evie and two from Jay. She opens up Jay's first, figuring it should be simple or meaningless. _(1)_ _I heard what happened. I'm here if you want to vent. (2) Evie is really worried about you. I thought I'd let you know…_ Mal lets out a long breath as she goes back to see Evie's messages. _(1) I just saw the news article. Where are you? (2) The guys don't know where you are either. Please tell me you're okay. (3) Ben skipped practice. Are you with him? (4) … I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you. If you get this message please text me back. If not then… please. Just answer me. I love you._

Mal places a hand to her forehead. What kind of friend doesn't bother to check their phone for a full day and on a day when people will clearly be worried about you? She taps on the message box, but looking at the prior messages, she has no idea what to say. It takes her a minute to begin, "I'm fine Evie. Yes, I'm at Ben's, and I won't be able to come home tonight… His mother insisted that I should stay. Thanks for your concern. But really, I'm fine."

When Belle comes out Mal looks up from her phone and sees her holding a big bag. "What is all of that?"

"Oh. You know," Belle laughs. "Just some unnecessary clutter."

"Clutter?" Mal repeats.

"Very unnecessary items," she insists. "You won't miss them."

"Right," Mal unsurely replies, before her cellphone dings.

"Oh. Are you texting someone?" Belle asks.

Mal smiles, "Just my best friend." and when Ben's mother lifts her head to peer over the screen Mal brings it closer to herself. "Which is still very private."

"Yes. Of course," she smiles. "Sorry for being nosy. But your room is ready now, so you can enter it any time you like."

Mal tries to smile back, "Thank you very much." and when she finally leaves she checks her phone again. There's a new text from Evie. _(1) I hope you're doing well. Have a nice night, then. I love you. Sleep well._ Mal whispers as she texts, "Yeah. You too." and then she proceeds to walk into the room. Whatever Ben's mother had taken, it certainly wasn't any of the valuables. _That lamp alone must cost a fortune._ She sets her phone on the bedside table and continues on into the bathroom, setting the clean clothes on the counter before turning the hot water on in the tub.

When she looks into the mirror she knows no one would have guessed that she'd just cried at the dinner table. Sure, there are still water marks, but the good thing about being a cold-blooded creature is that the constantly low body temperature keeps you from looking flushed. _Until I take this bath, after which it will either be a tossup of people accusing me of blushing or complementing me on my health… Really don't know which is worse._ She opens the cabinet mirrors and finds some deodorant, a brush with ponytails on it, lotion, and shaving cream. _But for some reason no razors. Huh. I wonder how that happened._ She rolls her eyes before seeing the pills on the top shelf. _And yet, she left the ibuprofen. How nice of her._ Mal shuts the cabinet and is forced to face herself, as she's met with the mirrors. She knows she said and did a lot of horrible things tonight, but she couldn't have predicted this would happen. _It's not like I could have known to bring my own._ So, it will just have to wait until after she returns back to her dorm.

* * *

"I'm baaack," Mal hears her mother's cackling laugh, before she sits straight up in bed and frantically looks around the room; however, no one is there. She takes a minute to catch her breath, before she sees the clock reads 1 A.M. She shakes her head and pulls out her phone before texting Evie. _I'm not going to school tomorrow. Check on my mom in the morning for me. One square of beef jerky should be fine. Make sure to turn her heat lamp back on._ Mal looks at the clock again. Going back to sleep won't be of any use. She has to get up, so after going to the bathroom and brushing her hair she heads for the door.

"Miss Mal?"

Mal turns to the blond guard, "Yes."

"It's late. Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"No, actually," Mal realizes. "I just couldn't sleep." She shakes her head, "Why are you outside my door?"

"Her Majesty stationed me here to keep an eye on you and keep you safe."

Mal almost rolls her eyes, "Did she tell you why?"

"No, miss," he shakes his head. "I can only assume she thought I'd be able to do my job without sharing any of the details."

"Wow. How perfect," Mal sarcastically comments as she looks down the hallway. "I was going to take a walk and maybe look around a little. I assume you'll be joining me?"

"Yes, miss. May I suggest a tour?"

"Under one condition," Mal states. "What do I call you?"

He smiles, "Louie, if you must."

"Okay, then," Mal begins to walk. "What's down this way?"

* * *

There's a knock at the door, and Mal groans before getting up to answer it. Ben smiles, "Hey. Did you sleep well?"

Mal tiredly shuts her eyes and places a hand to her head, "What time is it?"

"It's 9 A.M. I heard you went on a little tour of the castle last night, so I let you sleep in for a couple hours."

She shakes her head, "If you knew I didn't sleep well, then why did you ask me?"

He smiles, "Common courtesy. My apologies."

"My apologies," Mal laughs. "Maybe we could drop the formalities and just… what exactly are our plans for today?"

"There's a few hours before lunch. How about we fit a movie in?"

Mal nods, "Sound like a great idea." before she sees the guard a few feet away from them. "He's not going to be there, is he?"

Ben offers a questioning look, "Why would he be?"

Mal looks away for a second, "They were ordered to, and I quote, keep an eye on me and keep me safe." Ben doesn't speak. "I also looked in the bathroom cabinet last night, but there weren't any razors. I'm pretty sure your mother had me put on suicide watch."

It takes a moment for Ben to respond, "I didn't know."

Mal tensely laughs, "It's like the moment I express any emotion at all, suddenly everyone just gets super worried about me. It isn't right."

"Well," Ben retorts, "you did say some very… shocking things during dinner. I'm sure she had nothing but good intent when she did that."

"Still. I wasn't going to do anything."

"Hey. Look." He places his hands on her shoulders, "If my mother really did as you claim, then it just means she cares about you." He smiles, "Which is a welcome change, considering she nearly fainted at the prospect of you all coming here, quite literally." Mal doesn't speak, but her sad eyes say everything. "But I'll talk to her. Okay?"

Mal attempts to smile, "Okay." and then Ben kisses her on the forehead.

"Go to the living room. I will meet you there shortly." He nods with a smile, before he steps back and turns to leave. He walks through the dining room, goes down the staircase to check the sitting area, before he walks down the hallway to the library. His mother sits comfortably in an armchair reading a French book. "I should have known you'd be here."

She looks up at him, "Oh. Ben." and keeps her finger where she'd left off. "Do you want to talk to me about something?"

He steps into the room, "Mal is under the impression that you had her on suicide watch last night."

"Smart girl."

"So, it's true?" Ben furiously questions.

"You heard how she was talking," his mother reasons. "What was I supposed to do, just let the poor girl go back to school as if it never happened, possibly even leading her to make some irreversible decision everyone would regret?"

It takes a moment for Ben to evenly respond, "You could have at least told me— told us. She deserved to hear it from you, not by finding out there weren't any razors in the bathroom last night."

"She was looking for razors last night?" his mother questions.

"Well, yeah." He sees her expression, "What's so odd about that?"

"Ben." She hesitates, "Could you sit down for a minute."

Ben walks closer and sits on the footstool, "What is it?"

His mother marks the page and sets the book aside, before she folds her hands, "I'd like us to play a little game."

Ben frowns, "Which game?"

"The game is Tear Apart the Sentence, and the sentence is 'Mal was looking for a razor last night'. Can you tell me three flaws in that sentence?"

Ben shakes his head, "I don't understand. She was going to take a bath. She must have just wanted to shave her legs or something."

His mother nods but fails to smile, "I'll give you a hint. The clothes I gave her had pant legs and sleeves."

"You're wondering why she would have needed to shave in the first place," Ben realizes.

"Second hint," she continues on. "When do most people shave?"

"In the morning," Ben answers before letting out a small breath. "And not at night."

"Now," his mother recognizes, "there's a chance that she might have just wanted to impress you, but were you planning on seeing her last night?"

Ben shakes his head and almost laughs, "No."

"Now, then." She quietly asks, "Can you tell me what the third flaw in the sentence is?"

"If she really wasn't going to use the razor for shaving, then what would she have needed it for?" Ben shakes his head, "I can't believe this."

"It's hard," his mother nods, "but I'm not going to tell you how to handle this. You know her best. Whether you tell her about your suspicions or not is up to you."

"This is supposed to be a stress-free day," Ben acknowledges. "If I ask her what she was really planning on doing with that razor, then she could think that I see her as weak or that she's somehow failed us. She may even break down and cry." He looks up at his mother and shakes his head, "No. I'm not going to tell her, at least not today."

* * *

\- I don't know about all of you, but I would get really sick of being taught through games during serious situations very quickly.


	33. Beastly Texts

\- Yay! Bonus chapter. This is it for days fifteen and sixteen. I hope you've enjoyed.

* * *

 **Beastly Texts (Day 16: Monday Morning)**

"I thought we were supposed to stay out of contact with the outside world," Mal comments as Ben picks up his phone from the glass coffee table.

He laughs, "Don't worry. It's just Doug." but when he sees the text message his smile falters.

Mal watches him text back rapidly and puts the movie on pause, "What is it?"

"Apparently Chad is spreading a rumor around school about me."

"It's not that you're faking being sick, is it?" Mal half-smiles. "Because that's part of the reason why your mother kept you home today. She thought that if you went back today, then your team would think you skipped practice for no reason." She watches as Ben stares at the cell screen, seemingly frozen. "What is it?"

Ben shakes himself from his thoughts, "Sorry, Mal. Could you just give me a minute? I need to think." She nods but doesn't say anything, and a few texts later Ben appears to look a little less frightened of the situation. He smiles at her, "How about I get us some more popcorn?"

Mal tries to smile back, "Yeah. That would be great." but immediately after he leaves she picks up his phone from the table. Going into his text messages, there are many from his mother, father, his teammates, Doug, herself, Audrey, and some people she can only assume to be from either his staff or new job as king. She rolls her eyes at the sight of his ex's name, before she clicks on Doug's messages.

 ** _Ben_** _: Hey. I won't be at school today. If anyone asks, I'm sick._ _ **Doug**_ _: Are you?_ _ **Ben**_ _: Doesn't matter. Just do it._ _ **Doug**_ _: K._ _ **Doug**_ _: I don't know if I should be telling you this right now… but Chad's been spreading rumors and saying things about you._ _ **Ben**_ _: What things? What rumors?_ _ **Doug**_ _: He's going around telling people about how you growled at him earlier and about how he thinks you're going to turn into a beast… you know, like your dad did._ _ **Ben**_ _: Don't retaliate, but if anyone asks then deny it._ _ **Doug**_ _: What if someone asks about how you growled at him?_ _ **Ben**_ _: Tell them that I was just messing around, that Chad was getting on my nerves and so I pretended to growl at him to scare him off and for him to stop being so annoying._ _ **Doug**_ _: Are you sure that will work?_ _ **Ben**_ _: No one heard… I didn't even hear it. I'm sure no one will believe him._ _ **Doug**_ _: Okay, then. See you later?_ _ **Ben**_ _: Yeah. See you at the dorms tonight. Bye._ _ **Doug**_ _: Bye._

Mal puts the phone back on the table exactly as it was, but it's not even a minute later that she hears Ben reenter the room. She looks back at him, "Hey."

He sits down next to her, "Hey. So, I got cheesy popcorn this time. I hope you like it."

Mal smiles, "I'm sure it won't be an issue." before she places her hand on the hand that Ben holds the bowl with. "You know how you told me that I could come to you with anything?"

"Oh. Yeah," Ben quickly replies.

"Well. I hope you know the same applies to me," Mal tries to smile. "If you're going through something or if you ever need someone to confide in, then I'm here for you too."

He smiles, "Thank you. That means a lot." but then he reaches for the remote. "So, where were we?"

"We should probably rewind it a little," Mal suggests.

"Right," Ben agrees.

Mal opens her mouth before unsurely commenting, "You know, I'm still pretty curious about what all that texting was about."

Ben pauses the TV before evenly responding, "It was nothing really. Just Chad being his usual self, trying to overthrow me so that he can be king and everything."

"Well, yeah." Mal hesitates, "But you said he was spreading a rumor about you. What was it?"

Ben tries to smile but epically fails, "Hopefully by tonight it will no longer matter." Mal doesn't speak. "Come on. I can't believe you've had to grow up without seeing any of these movies at all. You don't know what you were missing."

Mal tenses a smile as he presses play, "Well, at least I can see it now."


	34. Prisoner

**Prisoner**

 **(Day 17: Tuesday Morning)**

"You're looking at my paper," Doug notices.

"Just getting the assignment," Evie comments as she looks at the corner of his notebook page.

"The assignment's on the board."

"No, thank you," she smiles. "I can see your paper a whole lot better."

Doug frowns, half confused, half shocked, "Are you telling me you can't see the board?" Evie doesn't answer. "You've been here over a week. Never mind getting A's and B's. If you can't see the board, then how are you even passing the class?"

"Same way I always have," Evie whispers. "By writing down the teacher's lecture and taking notes from the actual book." She gives him a look, "I can't believe you're all getting by on those premade notes. Don't you ever wonder how something happens or why it happens? How can you just stare blankly at a screen or board and be okay with being told it's just that way for a reason?"

Doug shakes his head, "Still. You're missing things. There's photos, diagrams, and charts. For labs there will be steps to the experiment procedure listed there."

She drops her pencil and looks at him, "What do you want me to do?"

"Let me take you to see an ophthalmologist this afternoon, so that you can be examined and get a pair of glasses."

"Glasses?" Evie questions. "You mean, like sunglasses?"

"No," Doug states. "More like prescription lenses." He sees that she still seems to be confused, "Like the glasses I'm currently wearing. They help me see better."

"Oh." Evie looks away for a moment, "I thought it was just a bad fashion choice."

"No," he asserts. "It really isn't. Everyone is allowed a new pair each year for free, but unless you want to pay out of pocket, then you're only given standard frame and lens options." She doesn't comment. "Did you really not know what glasses were?"

She gives him a look, "What do you think?"

"I just meant," Doug presses his glasses against the bridge of his nose. "Even prisoners have healthcare. I just thought—"

"Well, you thought wrong," she irritably interrupts as she writes down the vocab for the current section.

"Please. At least let me take you." She hears the sad regret in his voice. "Now that you're here, you should be able to be taken care of. That is, unless you want to find your grades steadily decrease after you put in so much hard work to get them up."

She looks at him, "You said you'd take me after school?" He nods. "Okay, then. I'll let you take me there."

* * *

"Sorry," the receptionist comments, "but I'm not seeing your name in the citizen index."

After Evie gives Doug a concerned look he replies, "Try looking under the Isle of the Lost."

A couple clicks are heard before she notes, "Yes. Here you are." as she types the information into the computer. "So, you need an examination and a pair of glasses. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Evie confirms.

The receptionist hands Evie the printed sheets of paper, "Go take a seat, and the doctor will be with you shortly."

"Okay," Evie nervously smiles, before she and Doug take a seat in the waiting area. "So. You've done this before."

"Only since I was seven," he jokes. "I have a lot of experience. Trust me. It's a very straightforward and simple examination. They'll just ask you what you're currently able to see, and then they'll put eye drops in to check the health of the eyes, before they place this device over your eyes and ask if the first or second image is clearer. There's nothing to worry about."

She looks at him, "I still don't know how I feel about wearing glasses. I mean, would I still be able to wear makeup if I wear glasses?"

"Oh. Right," Doug realizes. "Um, well, as I don't wear makeup myself, I don't know how hard or reasonable it would be to wear both at the same time, but if nothing else you can always look into contacts. They're like these small, round, plastic things you put in your eyes to see better. You'd look the same as you do right now, but, of course, it would be considered cosmetic and so you'd have to pay for it yourself." Evie nods. "Would you like us to ask the ophthalmologist about it?"

Evie smiles, "Yes. I'd like that very much."

* * *

"Wait a minute," Doug comments, slightly confused. "Aren't you supposed to sit down with her to show her how to put them in, and aren't there supposed to be samples?"

"She looks like a smart girl," the woman replies. "I'm sure she can figure it out for herself." She looks at Evie, "You were wanting the weekly ones. For a box of twelve that will be forty-five dollars or a total of ninety dollars for a box per eye."

"Yes." Evie pulls a pouch from her purse, "I've got the money right here."

"Good," the doctor smiles. "In that case, I will see if we've got your prescriptions in the back."

After the woman walks away Doug states, "This isn't right."

"What isn't right?" Evie turns to him in question.

Doug looks around before whispering, "Contacts can be dangerous if worn improperly. They require eye drops to not dry out and saline solution to clean them if needed. That's why they're supposed to have fittings for them. It's not just about showing you how to put them in and making sure your eyes can handle it. It's also about telling you how to be safe with them." He gestures, "In business terms, if they don't show someone how to be safe while wearing the contacts they're providing and if that person gets seriously injured because of it, then they're liable to be sued in the court of law, which causes both a loss of profit and an increase in bad publicity, making it probable that the amount of customers will decrease."

Evie shakes her head, "I don't understand. If that's the case, then why didn't they just have a fitting with me?"

Doug's unable to speak before the brown haired woman returns, "Here you go. This prescription is for your left eye, and this box is for your right."

Evie hands her the money before taking the boxes, "Thank you."

The blue eyed doctor informs, "Your glasses will arrive here within two weeks, so assuming that you can find a way back here, you can pick them up then." The woman hands the receptionist the cash, which is then placed in the register, before the doctor turns back around and heads down the hall."

"So," Evie asks, "does that mean we can leave now."

"I guess?" Doug questions, but before either of them can take more than a couple feet towards the door they're interrupted by the lady at the front desk.

"Sorry miss, but I'm afraid I can't let you leave quite yet."

Evie turns around, "Why not?"

"Your name was found under the prison registry. We can't let you leave until you're either picked up by the proper channels or until we close."

"What happens when you close?" Doug asks.

The blond woman partly smiles, "If the proper people have not picked her up by the time we close, then we will have to assume that she broke out somehow and then your friend will have to spend the night in a jail cell."

Doug shakes his head, "That's crazy. She didn't break out. She was let out by order of the king and his proclamation to give the villain's kids a chance to be reformed."

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have to follow protocol, and that protocol says that any prisoner who is seen here must be returned from whence they came."

"From whence they came?" Evie scrunches her eyebrows in disbelief.

"That's what the rules say," the grey eyed woman passively comments as she picks up a nail filer. "Don't try to leave. We have people posted at the door."

Doug strongly replies, "If you don't let us leave right now, then I will call King Ben himself and then you'll have to deal with him."

"Go ahead," she smiles. "I'm not going to stop you."

He stands for a second in shock, before he takes his phone from his pocket. It rings and rings again, and when it reaches the voicemail he hangs up. "He must be in a meeting or something." He looks at Evie, "Don't worry. I'll just send him a text, and within a few hours he should be able to be here."

Evie nods, "Right." as she looks around. "What are we supposed to do until then?"

The receptionist replies, "May I suggest that you take a seat?"

Evie doesn't respond, just staring blankly at the situation, until Doug places a hand on her back and guides her back to the sitting area. "It's okay. Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

\- Does any of you remember that scene where Evie raises her hand to ask what the second option was again, when the multiple choice question was written in large letters on the board? Yeah. So do I. Plot hole is fixed! You can thank me later... or now. Now is good too.


	35. Citizen

****Citizen****

 ** **(Day 17: Tuesday Evening)****

"Sorry I couldn't get here sooner," Ben apologizes as he struts over to the seating area, where Evie and Doug stand from their chairs. "We're going to need a blank background." He points to the extended wall on the other side of the room, "Evie. Could you stand against that for me, please?" She only offers a questioning look before going over there as instructed. "Great." He lifts up the tablet, "Okay. Now smile." and she does so. "Perfect."

Evie walks back over to him, "What's this for?"

"I am getting you out of here," the king slowly answers as he taps on the device. "First name: Evie. What's your middle name?"

"Queen," Evie responds, curiously trying to look over at the screen.

Ben smirks as he looks up for a mere moment, "Of Auradon." and then he continues on. "When's your birthday?"

"April twentieth."

"And your current age?" he prompts.

"Sixteen."

"Sex is female," Ben types aloud. "What's your height and weight?"

"Weight?" Evie asks, a heavy kind of dread suddenly settling upon her.

"It doesn't need to be exact," Ben explains. "These details are just needed to verify who you are or to find you if you somehow go missing."

"Oh. Ah." She clears her throat, "Well, my height is five feet four inches, and I'm a hundred and five pounds."

Ben stops typing and stares evenly at her for a second, "That seems a little low."

"It's not low," Evie debates, feeling as though she may cry. "It's accurate. I just checked it this morning."

"No," Ben closes his eyes as he shakes his head. "I mean it seems a little low for your height. Have you always had a lower body weight?"

It takes a minute for Evie to reply, "My mom's always told me that she'd be proud if I could ever get back into the double digits." Ben doesn't speak. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he responds with concern. "I just can't believe your mother would say something like that to you."

"She just wants me to be beautiful, perfect, and fair like she used to be." Evie pauses, "Since her downfall, all she ever wanted was for me to have the best life I could get."

Ben sternly shakes his head, "Look. Losing weight and fasting is nothing new, especially when it comes to sports, but when you have no more fat to burn off your body starts to eat at the muscle. That includes the heart. When an adult's body goes down into the double digits, they are at risk of heart failure. If your mother really wanted you to live the best life possible, then she wouldn't be encouraging you to do something that can result in your death."

Evie looks away from him and down at the tablet, "A hundred and five pounds. Did you get that down?"

Ben refocuses on the tablet, typing the number in, although a clear irritability is still shown in his features. "Eye color is brown. Is your hair naturally blue?"

"No," she almost laughs.

"Then what is it?"

Evie hesitates, "I'm not sure how to answer the question."

"When your hair grows out," Ben explains, "what color is it?"

"White and grey."

"Seriously?" Ben questions.

Evie looks away, "It used to be black, but my mom— she thought I'd look better blond. So, she— she…" She gulps.

"It's okay," Ben calmly assures before she can burst into tears. "Just tell me, would you rather have me put black or blond for your hair color."

"Black," Evie mutters as she takes steadying breaths.

Ben nods, "I already picked out your skin color. I don't suppose you know your blood type?" She just shakes her head. "That's fine. It's optional information, anyway." He scrolls down to the bottom, "Lucky for us living address is also optional." He holds the tablet in front of her, "I'll just need your thumbprint in the box and your right and left hand signatures on the corresponding lines."

"Signatures?" Evie asks.

"Just use the stylus pen to print your full name on the line." She does as he asks. "Great." He takes the tablet back and taps it once, before a plastic card is seen inching out of the device's side. "Evie Queen." He hands the card to her, "You are now officially a full citizen of my country."

She marvels at the sight of the silver card as she holds it, but she still comments, "Only half of the information is on here."

"Ah, yes," Ben points at the corner. "That chip there will reveal the rest if it's scanned. It's for… private reasons that we only display the photo and primary information."

"So, since I'm a full citizen," Evie questions, "does that mean I can leave now?"

Ben smiles, "Why don't you go show them your card at the front desk and see for yourself?"

Evie walks up to the receptionist and meekly places the card on the table, "I'm a full citizen now." as Ben and Doug follow close behind her.

The woman stares at the computer as she clicks a few times, before she replies, "So you are." and turns back to her. "But getting or renewing a citizenship card doesn't reduce or get rid of a prisoner's sentencing."

Ben leans on the counter, "As king of Auradon I'm going to politely ask you to check the roster again."

The receptionist responds in a shocked surprise, "I don't see her name on here anymore."

"Because she was never supposed to be on there," Ben states. "Her mother committed the crime and is carrying out her sentence accordingly. There's no reason why Evie should have ever been punished for it." The woman doesn't speak, and Ben smiles at Evie and Doug. "Come on. I'm sure you're dying to get out of here, and I should probably give the others their cards too before they stumble upon a similar situation."

* * *

"Huh."

"What is it?" Carlos asks.

"Oh. Nothing," Ben answers. "It's just that usually one of the signatures is sloppier than the other."

"I'm ambidextrous, so my handwriting is equally as sloppy."

Ben smiles at him, "Your handwriting is just fine." before the card prints out, he hands it to him, and he addresses all three of them. "Now. It's important to keep this on you at all times, if possible. You don't want to find yourself in the situation Evie did today."

"Yeah. I have a question," Jay interrupts. "This metal square. Is it going to be tracking where we are?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that," Ben evenly answers.

Mal gives him a look as Carlos slowly replies, "So, it will be tracking us."

It takes a moment for Ben to respond, "Do you want the truth?" They stay quiet, waiting for the answer. "There's a tracking chip in almost everything. It keeps it from being stolen— or in this case, it will either help the user find their card or help the government find the missing person it belongs to under the condition that they keep it with them."

"So," Mal questions, "for instance, we could all break into a museum to steal something and if we were to have these on us then we'd be directly connected to the crime."

Ben smiles, "Why? You planning to steal something?"

"Already tried," she honestly answers. "It didn't work."

"Sorry to hear that."

"No you're not," Mal laughs.

"No. You're right. I'm not." He looks at the guys and sees their looks of concern, "I know that you're probably used to a lot of privacy on the island, but tell me what you'd rather have: safety of privacy?"

It takes a minute for Carlos to comment, "I just don't understand how far this goes. Are there cameras around here too? Will these chips be able to tell exactly what we're doing of every moment of every day?"

"The chips aren't actively monitored, although your locations are stored for future use. It won't be able to tell if you're sleeping in class or stealing someone's class notes, and if you sneak out, then it's unlikely for anyone to notice unless you do do something as stupid as to break into a museum with it on you." He looks at Mal, "For what exactly?"

"Oh, yeah." Mal tries to smile, "Nothing really. Just Fairy Godmother's wand."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he continues. "As far as cameras go, they are only posted in the public areas of the school, and only the ones in the classroom or common areas have sound. To my knowledge, the sound is only checked when someone poses an allegation."

"So, there's no cameras in the dorms or bathrooms or anything like that?" Carlos asks.

"No," Ben reassures. "Child pornography is still against the law, and if the school were to put cameras in the dorms or bathrooms, then they'd probably be in violation of that law." No one speaks. "Any other questions?"

The three of them give each other a look, before Jay answers, "Nah. I think we're all good."

"Okay, then." Ben places a hand to his head, "That's right. One last thing: to be relevant these need to be replaced every two years on or after your birthday, and you can do that by taking a very quick and easy trip to city hall." They nod, and Ben scratches at his face. "I think that's it. Yeah. That should be it. You all alright? No questions?"

"No man," Jay answers. "We're alright. What about you?" He sees Ben shift his stance. "You seem a little on edge."

"Yeah. I'm fine," Ben lies. "I'd just really like to ask Mal something in private." He looks at her, "Maybe we could discuss in my dorm, since it's, you know, close and everything?"

Mal softly replies, "Yeah. I can do that." She walks towards him before glancing back at her friends, "See you later guys." as the two of them head out of the room.

* * *

\- Yeah. Somehow Ben seemed more fidgety when I first wrote this, but that's probably just because I think I remember writing this chapter the same night I wrote the Beastly Texts chapter. All well. So long as another character notices it I guess?

\- **Edit: 03/09/2019** \- Corrected Evie's birthday. Probably should have made character profiles. Sorry for the inconsistencies.


	36. The Cure

**The Cure**

 **(Day 17: Tuesday Evening)**

"What is it?" Mal asks after she shuts the door behind them.

Ben shakes, "The rumors. They haven't gotten to you yet, have they?"

Mal huffs, "Ben. I'm your girlfriend. I think you know they have."

"But you know they're not true?" he asserts. "Right? You know they're not true."

She only pauses for a second before replying, "Yeah. I know."

"Good," Ben laughs. "Because they're not true. They're not."

Mal walks up to him, "You're scared."

"I'm not scared," he denies. "Why would I be scared?"

"You're scared, because you're afraid the rumors could be true. You think that growl actually meant something, that it could turn into something more." She hears his shaky breaths, "Breath." as she sees a tear fall from his eyes. "And don't cry."

Ben shuts his eyes as Mal wipes the tear away, "Everything was going so great. You know? I was king, I had you, and my grades have been fine." He sniffles. "This could take all of that away from me." He places a hand to her face, "I just got you. I can't lose you."

"You're not going to lose me. Okay?" Mal firmly states. "This thing isn't going to take anything from you, because it's not going to turn into anything."

"You sound so sure," Ben whispers.

"That's because I am sure. Your father was never really a beast. It was nothing but an enchantment, an enchantment that broke long before you were born. The beast doesn't exist anymore, so there's no way you could be one either." He doesn't look at her, so she lifts his chin for him to see her, "I have magic. I know what I'm talking about."

"I growled at him," Ben sadly looks at her. "I didn't hear it at the time, probably because I was too mad to, but the more I think about it the more I can hear it." He takes a disbelieving breath, "I actually growled. Humans don't growl like that."

"It doesn't mean anything," Mal dismisses. "People mimic birds all the time. You must have just mimicked some animal you've heard before."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Even if it does mean something, which it doesn't," Mal comments. "If by some extremely small chance your father retained some beast qualities and those somehow got passed onto you, that doesn't make you a monster. It can be dealt with, and if that happens that doesn't mean you would lose me or your crown. Because I would be here to help you through it."

He smiles painfully and hugs her, "I love you, Mal."

She places a hand on his back, "I know."

He half laughs, "I thought you would be mad at me."

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"I thought that if I told you, then you wouldn't want to be with me anymore." He breathes, "I thought you might not understand."

Mal puts her other arm around him, "I understand more than you could know."

He places his cheek in her neck, "You're always so nice and cold." Mal doesn't speak, and it's a good few seconds before he continues. "I hate crying."

"Most people do."

He lets go of her, "How's my temperature?"

She places a hand on his forehead, "In comparison to what, me or a normal person?" as he shuts his eyes and she moves the hand down to his cheek. "You do feel a little extra hot right now." She leans in and whispers, "But I think I've got the cure for that." before she kisses him.

He opens his eyes and smiles, "How do you manage to stay so cold?"

Mal places a finger to his lips, "Shh. Let's have a little less questions and a little more contact." She glances over, "Which bed is yours?"

"Ugh," he laughs. "You're killing me."

She wraps her arms around him and places her lips centimeters from his as she repeats, "Which one?"

He takes a few steps back towards the one on the right, "This one."

Mal kisses him, "Good." and then pushes him onto the bed. "How do you want me?"

"How do I, ah, what?" Ben asks.

She goes onto the bed and hovers over him, before she places a hand under his shirt, "Is this good?" He merely nods, so she moves in closer. "How about this?"

Ben feels her cold lips on his mouth, before she moves down to his neck. "Ah, yeah. This— this is good."

"Make sure to tell me if you lose too much feeling."

He breathes in deeply as he stares at the door, "We shouldn't be doing this. Someone could come in."

Mal whispers, "Do you care?"

Ben feels the cold move along his neck, "No. I don't care, but I should. I should care." Mal switches her hands so that her left one goes to the other side of his neck and her right one moves from his arm to his side. "No one's going to come in here. Doug's too busy with Evie. We can take a moment for ourselves."

"As we should," Mal says, before she silences him with a kiss. "But I think I've cured your temperature." She teases, "Maybe we should stop."

"No," Ben lets out. "We just started. Don't stop."

Mal smiles, "If you say so." before she continues on.

* * *

\- Yeah. I know the chapter title is a little click-baity, but with such a short dialogue I failed to see a better option.


	37. Communication vs Manipulation

**Communication vs Manipulation**

 **(Day 17: Tuesday Night)**

"Oh no," Doug complains as he walks into the dorm.

Ben looks up from his textbook, "What?"

"You made out with her again."

"And?" Ben questions.

"You still haven't healed from the last one she gave you, not to even mention that she bites hard enough to break through the skin."

Ben shakes his head, "So, what?"

"So, why do you let her do that to you?"

"Like I said before," Ben sets down his mechanical pencil, "it didn't hurt. There was nothing to stop her from doing. It's fine."

"It's not fine, and how can it not hurt?"

Ben places a hand to his head, "We've had this conversation before."

"Well, just do me a favor and try to explain it to me again," Doug tensely smiles. "Because maybe this time one of us can make a little more sense of it."

It takes a moment for Ben to respond, "It didn't hurt, because I didn't feel a lot of anything. It's like it was numb or something."

"Numb," Doug states. "I'm pretty sure you left that part out last time."

"What difference would it have made?"

"A big difference," Doug sternly remarks. "I've never made out with anyone before, but even I know that your neck isn't supposed to go numb from it."

Ben shrugs, "She has a cold body temperature. That's probably all it is."

"Cold?" Doug asks. "How cold?"

"Colder than me?" Ben answers. "But then again most people are. Why?"

Doug shakes his head, "It just doesn't make sense. She'd have to be like an ice cube to be able to numb you like that, unless, of course, the real issue is that the neck is filled with nerves and blood vessels and she's— what did you call it? Oh. That's right. Feisty."

"You have something against feisty girls," Ben replies.

He shakes his head, "Girls can act any way they want. Just not in bed. Do you know how many guys have ended up in hospitals just because they were letting their wife or girlfriend be on top?" Ben gives him a questioning look. "Way too many. It's horrible."

"What I don't get here is that you don't even have a girlfriend, so why are you looking all of this stuff up?"

"I didn't look it up," Doug mumbles. "Like with anything else, I stumbled upon it."

Ben chuckles, "That would never hold up in court."

"Haha Mr. Intro to Law, Intro to Sociology and Psychology." Doug frowns, "God. How many electives are you taking?"

"Too many," Ben lets out a stressed breath. "A couple of my classes actually overlap, which stinks, but at least I always have a nice textbook to rely on." He picks the blue pencil back up, "Speaking of which, I have twenty pages to go through before tomorrow."

Doug walks over to him, "That's a lot of pages."

"It's a normal amount of pages," Ben grins. "With things like Law or Sociology or," he lifts up his textbook, "Communications, they like to have examples and stories."

"Well, at least that sounds nice."

"It is nice," Ben states. "That is if I don't have to skip over it to complete the assignment on time." He shakes his head, "Really. I don't know why I have to take all of these classes. I mean, I know why. It's just that I'll be lucky if I can remember half of it." He looks back down at the assignment, "I'll be even luckier if I can learn how to use it."

"Use it?" Doug questions.

Ben slightly laughs, "I'm taking a communications class because I'm king, and yet I can't even get my girlfriend to open up about much of anything. I swear, it's like one step forward and three steps back. I get her to let me in a little, and then she closes back up, pretends she never said anything, and then gets oddly defensive."

"How does someone act oddly defensive?"

It takes a moment for Ben to speak, "For example, on one of our dates we wound up talking about a different conversation we had in which she seemed to have been trying to scare me off or something, and when I asked her what the real problem was she just kissed me and… all of that."

"Sounds like she manipulated you."

"Yeah," Ben realizes. "I guess she kind of did."

"You know they have entire classes on it on the Isle of the Lost." Doug glances at his textbook, "You could probably read that entire thing and still not have as much knowledge in communication as she does in manipulation."

Ben's quiet for a second, "What do you suggest, that I just stop asking her if she's okay or what's wrong?"

"No. I'm just saying that you're not going to be able to make her do anything. Anything she does, it's probably only going to happen when she's either ready or willing."

"It's just that I know they've all gone through hell on that island, and she's my girlfriend." Ben frowns, "I just wish she could be a little more open with me, or at least not shut me out or become defensive after admitting to something."

"You've only been dating her for two weeks," Doug points out. "Do you honestly expect her to be honest with you about everything?"

Ben half laughs, "She was honest enough to tell me that the last guy she was with she had planned to kill."

Doug's jaw drops, "Huh. What?"

"Yeah. I know."

He presses his glasses to the bridge of his nose, "Well, you know, no one does that kind of thing without a reason."

"I know," Ben quietly replies. "It's called motive. But still, I wish I at least knew why she hated that guy so much."

Doug tries to laugh, "Yeah, man. You'd better not make the same mistake."

"Ha ha." Ben shakes his head, "It must have been awful… whatever it was."'

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Think of every worst possible scenario," Doug answers. "Whatever you're thinking, it can't possibly be that bad."

"She was on the Isle," Ben emphasizes. "A place filled to the brim with villains and pirates and the worst of the worst. I think I can think as bad about it as I want to."

"And I think," Doug nods down to the textbook, "that you should do your homework."

* * *

\- You can kind of assume that Ben's just been wearing turtle necks and stuff, which is something that a few people should really be questioning (such as his mother)... and yet, I don't think I ever found a good spot to write that in... Hmm. Well. He's going to be dating Mal for while. I'm sure I'll find a place to fit that concept in eventually... like maybe he has an interview and has to look professional, and he complains about the outfit his mom wants him to wear... so, then she covers his neck in makeup. Yeah. That sounds good... assuming I can actually put that somewhere. I'll probably keep missing the opportunity.


	38. Locker Room Talk

**Locker Room Talk**

 **(Days 19-20, Thursday-Friday Afternoon)**

"It feels like we've had practice every day this week," Carlos complains as he switches from his jeans to his tourney shorts.

"That's because we have," Aziz comments.

Jay smiles, "We have a big game Sunday. Can't mess it up."

"I know," Carlos irritably responds as he takes his shirt off and sorts through the rest of the uniform. "I just hope it won't be like this every week." Aziz laughs but abruptly stops, before Carlos turns to see him frozen halfway through putting a cleat on, his mouth slightly agape. "Something wrong?"

Aziz is quiet as he points to the side of Carlos's abdomen, "That's new." and Jay looks at them with a seemingly blank expression.

"How would you know? Have you been staring at me?" Carlos accuses, before Aziz silently looks away. He shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I'm just sick of everyone seeming to think they're some kind of psychoanalysis or something." Aziz looks back at him. "It feels like I'm constantly being observed under a microscope and being prodded at."

"It was just an observation," Aziz explains as he finishes putting on his cleats. "You've been here for a couple weeks now. Any burns you had should have healed by now."

"It's not that fast," Carlos disputes.

"Of course, it isn't. Not if you keep picking at them."

There's a long silence, before Jay interrupts, "Carlos." He looks at him. "You'd better finish getting ready before Coach comes in here and asks why you haven't yet."

Carlos nods, "Right." before he puts on the undershirt, armor, and jersey.

When he turns around Jay smiles, "Come on. We're the last ones here."

* * *

Ben sighs as he sees Chad push the needle into his ankle, "You know, it's just a practice. Maybe you shouldn't be using that."

"And what?" Chad laughs, "Get benched and let that thief take my spot?" He stands and places the syringe and vile back in his locker. "I don't think so."

"Still," Ben insists. "You're not supposed to take it as often as you do." Chad snickers, and Ben's quiet for a moment before asking, "What?"

Chad grins at him and whispers, "No offense, but I'm not going to take dosage advice from someone who has a dozen pills on hand at any given time."

Ben slowly shakes his head, "I don't."

"Really?" Chad asks. "Because last time I checked, you don't swallow tic-tacs with water." He stays silent, and Chad leans in. "Come on. Just tell me what you're taking."

"I told you," Ben softly responds. "I'm not taking anything."

Chad slightly shakes his head, "Compared to me you're a twig, and yet you're a lot stronger than I am. You've got to be taking something."

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "I've been in sports since I was a child. Maybe if you'd done the same thing, then you'd be just as strong as I am."

Chad grits his teeth, "That's a load of garbage. I am stronger. It's not my fault if you're using." He nods to the locker, "Just tell me what it is."

Ben takes the tic-tac's container out from the pants pocket, "This? Is this what you want to know about?"

"Yes."

Ben smiles as he takes a couple of the white pills out and swallows them with a swig of water, "It's Tylenol, a fever and pain reducing medication." He holds the container out towards Chad, "Would you like a couple. It's a lot more legal than those pre-signatured prescription scripts you paid your doctor for."

Chad glares at him, "Are you threatening me?"

"No," Ben evenly responds. "I'd just like to remind you that using steroids is illegal in this sport and that if Coach were to find out, then he'd have to have a talk with both you and your parents."

Chad grabs hold of Ben's jersey and pushes him up against the wall, "No. That's not happening."

Ben reaches for the back of his head and rubs at the sore spot, "I'm not looking to start a fight." as he notices the audience they have procured.

"Too bad, because you already started one."

Ben takes a fast breath before warning, "I don't want to hurt you, Chad, especially when you're already injured, but I will if I have to."

Chad angrily laughs, "I've got you backed against a wall. I have the advantage point here." before he raises his hand to punch him.

Ben ducks his head off to the right, leaving Chad to punch the stone wall, but he still pushes him away for good measure, "Stop it. You don't want to fight me."

He shakes his head, "You're going to pay for that." but this time when Chad comes up to him Ben shoves him back at full force. Some of the players nearest to Chad see if he's okay, while the rest just stare at him. He turns to his left to see several people from the other side of the lockers staring at him, before Jay questions, "How did you do that?"

"Adrenaline rush," Ben manages to say, before the coach treads into the room.

"What's taking everyone so—" His loud voice halts at the sight of Chad standing from the bench on the other side of the room in pain. "Is he okay?"

"Fine Coach," Chad grunts, before he eyes Ben. "How about you ask your star player?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but the coach motions for him to stay quiet. He looks back at Chad, "If you're really alright, then I'd like you to head out to the field."

Chad's jaw drops in disbelief, "You're not seriously going to drop this."

"Well, that depends. Who started it?"

There's silence for a minute, before William says, "Chad threw the first punch."

"Then I'd say justice has been served," Coach Jenkins comments. "Wouldn't you?"

"You know what?" Chad angrily responds. "No. I don't."

Jenkins looks at him seriously, "I'm not sending two of my best players to the office over a simple fight that didn't seriously harm anyone."

Chad points at Ben, "He's on something."

The coach takes a step forward, "Look, here. I've coached Ben for several years now. He's always been a little strong for his age and frame. He's not using anything."

"Yes, he is," Chad insists. "Check his locker. It's in his locker."

Jenkins takes a deep breath before glancing at Ben, and a moment later Ben reopens his locker and shows his coach the tic-tac case, "He saw this."

"Tylenol?" Ben nods, and the coach does the same before turning back to Chad. "He has nothing illegal in his locker."

Chad insists, "But I saw—"

Jenkins takes a step forward, "What you saw was an over-the-counter medication. As it would turn out, Ben just hasn't been feeling his best."

"He seemed well enough when he pushed me over here," Chad retaliates.

"That's it," the coach yells. "I've had enough of this. We've already wasted enough practice time on this, and we're not going to waste any more." He points to the exit, "So, get out to that field." He glances around the entire room, "All of you."

When everyone has left Ben apologizes, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

The coach turns and takes a step towards him, "You could have easily killed him."

Ben eyes the concrete floor for a second, "I know." before he looks back up. "I really didn't mean to do it. You have to know that."

Jenkins nods, "I know, but you still need to tell me what happened."

Ben's quiet for a moment, before he says, "Chad saw me taking the Tylenol before, and because I'm stronger than him he assumed I was on something." He looks at the floor, "He wanted to know what it was, but he didn't like my answer."

"So, he… what?"

"He pushed me up against the wall and tried to punch me, but I ducked and pushed him back; however, he came at me again." Ben silences.

"That's when you shoved him," the coach guesses.

"Yes," Ben informs. "I thought that since he still wanted to fight when I being easy on him, then maybe if I used my full strength…"

"When you fight violence with violence, you only end up with more violence."

Ben feels tears begin to sting his eyes, "Do you really think I could have killed him?"

Coach Jenkins takes a few steps toward him, "Ben. You mustn't beat yourself up over this. You just don't know your own strength, and how could you? You've never been given the opportunity."

Ben nods, "I suppose you're right about that."

"And just a suggestion," the coach starts. "You're not ten years old anymore. Maybe it would be better if you just kept those pills in their original containers."

Ben smiles, but the laugh is unable to escape him, "I'm king. Privacy is still an issue. I can only imagine what the press would do if they saw me lugging around bottles of pills."

He nods, "Yes, well, maybe you've got a point."

Ben slightly nods as well, but it's only after a moment of quiet that he questions, "May I ask you something?"

"Sure. Anything."

"Am I—" He looks away for a second and attempts a calming breath, but as he looks back up he can still feel his heart racing. "Do you think I'm weird?"

"Weird how?" the coach questions.

"Like—" He takes another breath, "You know, like the things I can do, the problems I have. Does that make me weird?"

"I wouldn't call it weird." He smiles, "I'd just say you're special."

"If I'm so special, then why can't I say anything to anyone?" He gestures to the hall exit, "Or even just be my best on the field? As our coach, surely what you want more than anything is for us to win."

"No." He shakes his head, "That's where you're wrong." before he places a hand on Ben's shoulder. "As your coach, what I want most is for you to be safe."

It takes a moment for Ben to ask, "Are you saying that if I were to do my best on that field, then I wouldn't be safe?"

He takes his hand off and uses it to explain, "When people see something— someone— who is special, they tend not to take kindly to it. That's why your parents insist on not having you say or show anything out of the ordinary to anyone. They just want to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" Ben questions. "An angry mob? I'm strong. I have a constant fever. But that doesn't make me a monster," he insists, but then he continues in unsureness. "Does it?"

"No. Of course, not," Jenkins responds. "It's only a precaution."

Ben sadly responds, "Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

* * *

\- If the two parts to this chapter don't feel like they belong next to each other, it's because they don't. I had initially only had Carlos's scene for this chapter, because I thought it was important to have an update of what he was doing; however, the chapter was just so short and I didn't know how to add onto it without making it weird. Later on when I was working on Ben's storyline I ended up thinking up a scene that would fit very nicely here, except now I almost think that only Ben's part of the chapter should remain... almost. It's still important to know where Carlos is in all of that... stuff.

\- Also. Just because Ben is as much his mother's son as he is his father's, I did put in a reference to a line Belle says to her father at the beginning of her movie... hopefully it's not lost on everyone.


	39. I Will

**I Will**

 **(Day 22: Sunday Afternoon)**

Ben takes his water bottle from the bench and drinks it, as he waits for the people to disperse and for his teammates to go back to the locker room, and when the bottle empties he walks up towards his coach. "Great game, Ben. You've done your school proud."

"Yes," Ben simply answers, and there's a quiet few seconds before he continues. "Coach. I have to tell you something."

He frowns, "What is it?"

"I think I have to quit the team."

Coach Jenkins smiles, "This is a joke, right? One of my best players leaving the team, could you imagine that?" Ben doesn't respond, and the Coach's smile falters. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No," Ben frowns. "I'm afraid I'm not."

The coach shifts his stance, "Son, if this is about those rumors going 'round—"

"It's not just the rumors," Ben interrupts. "This has been a long time coming. I've just been prolonging it as much as I could." The coach doesn't speak, so he continues, "Now that I'm king I'm going to have a lot of meetings and appointments, and since I'm still in school they're going to have to be placed in the afternoon."

Jenkins lets out a breath, "Ben. We've talked about this." before he attempts a smile. "You've got such a natural athleticism. You would really only need to show up to practice a couple days a week to go over the plays. You said it would be fine."

"Yes, well," Ben straightens his posture. "I've changed my mind." He sees his coach look off into the distance, "I just thought I'd give you one last good game. It wouldn't have been fair to leave you right before a match."

"I appreciate that," he finally replies, "but I don't believe you're leaving just because you're king now."

Ben is quiet for a minute, "You're right. I just thought that would make a good excuse. Not that anything I said was untrue, but it's not the reason why I need to leave."

"Then what is it?"

He looks away for a second, "Just what you said. Chad's being a real royal pain, starting all of these rumors about me, and maybe that's my fault… but I can't stand it anymore." He sees the coach listening intently. "The guys have been asking me questions, and I feel like my excuses have just been getting more and more lame every time I say them."

"Have you been changing your story at all?" he asks.

"No." Ben shakes his head, "Maybe. I don't know." before he lets out a stressed breath. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep lying to the people I'm closest to."

"So, what? You're just going to avoid them?"

"Not entirely," Ben explains, "but maybe if I don't spend as much time with them, then they'd want to spend that time doing something other than asking me stupid questions."

Jenkins looks at him seriously, "You can't run away from your problems. They're just going to follow you."

Ben sadly laughs, "Don't you think if I had another option, then I'd take it?" and his coach silences. "I'm not allowed to tell anyone anything. If I can't explain myself and if they're just going to keep berating me with questions, then what else can I do?"

The coach calmly comments, "Your parents wouldn't want you to quit."

"Maybe," Ben agrees. "But they'd want me to confess the truth even less."

"Look. I know this must be hard—"

"Hard?" Ben exasperates. "And this? What could you possibly know about this? I'm a king, and I'm straight up lying to my kingdom on a daily basis! Why, King Ben. How have you been?" He glares at him, "Yeah. I'm fine. I've just had a life-threatening fever my entire life." but then he begins to feel disoriented and plops himself onto the bench, placing a hand to his head as he does so.

Jenkins takes a couple steps and kneels down on one knee, "Ben. You've got to calm down." but Ben shakes his head. "Where's your medicine?"

"In my locker," he replies under his breath, before he breaks into sobs. "Why? Why am I like this? Why is this happening to me?"

"Ben."

He looks up at his coach, "You know that my doctor hasn't been able to explain it? And then, there's my dad. He's all like 'we can handle it', 'you don't need to know why', and 'there is no need for a second opinion'." He huffs, but then he takes in a deep breath as the lightheadedness hits him further. "I— I don't feel well. I'm… dizzy."

"Hold on," Jenkins says as he stands to his feet. "I'll go get that medicine for you."

Ben looks up for a moment, watching him run back to the building, before he stares back down at the ground. It's like he's unable to think, and yet these images flash before him. There was a time very similar to this one, where he got upset and his father told him to calm down. "No. I'm not going to calm down. I'm a teenager. I think I deserve to be able to show the least bit of emotion every now and again. I mean, how is anyone supposed to know how I feel if— if…" He had placed his hand down on the dining table to keep himself steady.

"Honey. Maybe you should sit down," his mother suggested.

He shook his head, "No. I— I want to stand."

"Honey," his mother had worriedly said again.

At the sound of her voice he fell into the chair, "Why can't I just do what everyone else my age gets to do?" He remembers how she had come over to hand him the thermometer, but he rejected it. Instead, he just shook his head before resting it in his arms.

"Ben?"

Ben looks up and sees the coach handing him the tic-tac case and a water, "Thank you." and after he takes the items he downs three of the Tylenol.

The coach sits down on the bench, and after a minute he asks, "How are you feeling?"

Ben lets out a soft breath, "Tired. Just really tired."

Jenkins nods before saying, "You know, I was thinking…" Ben turns to look at him. "You had to get into sports, because you needed something to calm you down. But if this environment has turned into something stressful for you— Well, for someone like you stress can be a really bad thing, and you're already getting enough of it already… So, if this has turned into something stressful or anxiety provoking for you, then maybe it is best that I let you go."

Ben calmly responds, "Thanks for understanding."

Coach Jenkins smiles, "You betch ya."

Ben smiles back, but it doesn't take long for it to falter, "What did you mean by someone like me?"

"Oh that." He laughs it off, "You know, someone like you. Someone with your, ah… well, you know. Your condition."

"Right," Ben unsurely replies.

"Speaking of which," the coach continues. "All of that energy you display on the field, it's not just going to go away. If you quit this team, I need you to promise me that you will find something else."

Ben solemnly frowns, "I started when I was a kid, and kids have a lot of energy." before he looks down for a moment. "Just because I still have some energy, that doesn't mean that things are going to be as bad as they once were."

The coach gives him a stern look, "Promise me you will find an alternative."

He opens his mouth before saying, "Yeah. Don't worry. I will."

Jenkins smiles wide, "We're going to miss you, kid."

Ben nods before smiling back, "Yeah. I'm going to miss you too, Coach."

* * *

\- Let me just thank everyone who has been leaving reviews. As always the first couple are scary to get, but the more that I've gotten the more reassurance I've had in this fanfiction and how I'm writing it... There was this one review that had a typo, and I'm pretty sure that repeated word replaced an important word; however, do not fret. After staring at it for a minute I think I understand what it was supposed to say, and I totally agree. It probably would make it easier for Ben to deal with his beastly qualities if Mal had been honest to him about what she is, but there are many reasons why she would not willing tell anyone about her and because of that Ben probably won't find out until certain circumstances present themselves... I say probably, but what are we kidding? I'm currently writing that chapter as we speak. I bet you all can't wait for him to find out.


	40. Let Him

**Let Him**

 **(Day 23: Monday Afternoon)**

"I can't believe Ben quit," Carlos comments as he and Jay walk to History class.

"Yeah. I don't know how our team's going to survive without him."

Carlos smiles, "You're a pretty good player."

"Yeah," Jay acknowledges, "but we can only win as a team. I doubt half of those players are going to toss me the ball, even if I pass it to them."

"Right," Carlos frowns. "Well, at least you've got the coach's support."

Jay nods, "That's true. As for the rest, well, I'm just going to have to prove them wrong."

"It doesn't take long at all for your confidence to bounce back, does it?"

Jay laughs, "With charm and good looks like mine that's a given." but his smile quickly falls as Chad rushes up to Carlos and pushes him against the lockers, causing the books to fall from his arms.

Carlos half-laughs, "Hey, Charming. What's up?"

"Don't Charming me," Chad seethes, his hand clutched onto Carlos's shirt. "It's because of you that Ben quit the team."

"How is that my fault?" he exasperates.

"If Ben didn't think other players could pick up the pace, then he would have never left."

Carlos grins in disbelief, "Do you even hear yourself right now? I'm the worst player on the team!"

"Even more of a reason for you to quit," Chad reasons before raising his arm into the air and pointing a fist at him. "Say you'll quit."

Jay takes a step forward, "He's not quitting."

Carlos gives Jay a look, "Stay out of this." before turning back to Chad. "I'm not going to quit the team just because some narcissistic moron wants me to."

Chad shakes his head, "Last chance. I'm warning you."

Jay takes a few more steps, but Carlos stops him with his hand, "No. Don't. Let him."

"What?" Chad asks, his arm lowering a bit.

He stares him in the face, "Do it."

It takes a moment for Chad to respond, "You're messing with me. You think that if you say do it, then I won't do it."

"Hey, look. Someone's a genius," Carlos sarcastically comments, before he frowns at him. "No. I'm serious. If you really want to do it, then just do it. I've got a class to attend."

Chad looks at his fist before lowering it to his side, "No."

"What?"

"I said no," Chad repeats as he shakes his head. "I never planned to punch you."

"So, what then?" Carlos nearly yells. "Your fist was just a prop this entire time?"

Chad shrugs, "Kind of. Yeah."

Carlos lets out an irritated breath, "I mean, that's kind of boring. Don't you think?" before the corner of his mouth turns up into a smirk. "Are you sure you don't want to give it a try, leave me a bruise or two, maybe see if you can make me bleed?"

Chad looks at him in shock, before he finally releases his shirt, "No." and takes a step back. "God. You're really messed up."

When Carlos watches Chad begin to walk away he steps out into the hallway and yells, "Don't walk away from me you coward. I'm on your territory. If you think I'm such a threat, then come back here and defend yourself."

Jay walks up to him and grabs his arm, "What are you doing?" but Carlos only responds by pulling away and glaring off at Chad.

When Chad turns around he calmly responds, "You know, it would be just like a villain's kid to get off on pain." He looks over him, "I just thought it'd be the other way around."

Carlos's anger dissipates into a frown as he sees the crowd that surrounds them for the first time. They saw it all, they heard it all, and there's no telling what they think of him now. Soon a voice comes in from the intercoms, "Chad Charming and Carlos De Vil. Please come to my office immediately."

* * *

\- Yeah. Chad probably thought that if he didn't actually punch him, then he'd get off scot free; however... he may be wrong.


	41. Zero Tolerance

**Zero Tolerance**

 **(Day 23: Monday Afternoon)**

Carlos and Chad stand outside of the office waiting to be called in, each giving each other glances before Carlos says, "I wasn't getting off on it."

"You were getting something out of it."

Carlos doesn't respond, knowing fully that for once Chad's right; he had to have been getting something out of it or else he wouldn't have antagonized him as much as he did. He imagines what would have happened if Chad had decided to punch him. It would have been tender, it would have been warm, there'd have been that tingling sensation; it would have left a mark, something that could be pressed on to cause even further pain, but why would he want that? Deep down he thinks he knows why. "I'm sorry."

"Are you actually apologizing to me?" Chad questions.

It takes a moment for Carlos to respond, "Yeah. I guess I am." The door opens before Chad can ask him why, but it isn't Fairy Godmother. Carlos looks at her in slight surprise, "Jane. What are you doing here?"

She sadly looks at him, "I called her when the fight started, or, well, what I thought would turn into a fight." She quietly observes him, "I'm sorry. I didn't know how it would end." before she turns and walks away.

Fairy Godmother stands at the door, "You can come in now." and when they do there's already two seats set out for them as she returns to her desk. "Now. Can either of you tell me what exactly happened?"

Chad looks at Carlos, "I was wondering the same thing."

When the headmistress brings her full attention to Carlos he shrugs, "I don't really know what happened… Chad pushed me up against a locker and told me to quit the team or else he'd punch me." He bites the inside of his lip, "In the end he just walked off."

Chad nearly laughs, "You're forgetting about that entire middle part where I said I never planned to punch you and you insisted that I should anyway."

Fairy Godmother questions, "Carlos. Is that true?"

Carlos bites his lip even harder, "He didn't want me on the team, and on the Isle we do everything we can to protect what we have." before glancing at Chad. "I guess I just didn't understand why he wouldn't if he really did see me as a threat."

The headmistress nods, "Maybe that's true, but this isn't the Isle of the Lost."

"I know," Carlos whispers.

She looks at Chad, "That being said, Auradon Prep has a zero tolerance for violence and threats involving weapons."

"What? I didn't have a weapon," Chad angrily denies.

"People can be beaten to death," she unforgivably states. "Just because you weren't holding a knife, that doesn't make this any less serious. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Chad grumbles, but when Carlos looks at him he gets the inkling that he really doesn't understand or think it's fair at all.

Fairy Godmother nods, "Alright, then. You will be having a week of in-school-suspension, and I will make sure you won't be able to play in the next game."

He widens his eyes at her, "No. You can't do that. Coach would never bench me!"

"You better hope he does," Fairy Godmother calmly responds, "because if he doesn't, then that one week of suspension will turn into a month."

"But," Chad begins in shock.

"It starts tomorrow. Come here in the morning for the room number and instructor." It's quiet for a second, before she finalizes, "You may return to class now."

After watching Chad leave the room disgruntled, Carlos turns back to the headmistress, "What's my punishment?"

"You think you deserve a punishment?" she asks curiously.

"Well, I did antagonize him," Carlos explains. "I'm rather surprised he didn't punch me after everything I said to him."

"And what did you say to him?"

It's quiet as Carlos thinks, "A narcissistic moron." As he looks back, he has a hard time coming up with anything that won't sound terribly weird and horrible. "I called him a coward, said he should fight to keep his territory."

"Territory?" Fairy Godmother questions.

"The tourney team. The school." He shrugs, "You know."

She nods, "If this is only a misunderstanding of how things work around here, then I don't think punishment is necessary. I think a simple conversation will do just fine."

Carlos nods, "Okay."

* * *

\- What do you guys think of this zero tolerance policy? Is it too strict, or do you think it makes sense? Do you consider it to be more hypocritical or less hypocritical than the zero tolerance policies you've encountered? I'm curious to know.


	42. Because I Like It

**Because I Like It**

 **(Day 23: Monday Night)**

"There you are. Where've you been all day?" Jay infuriates.

"The library," Carlos answers in annoyance as he sets his things on the table.

"All evening too." Jay questions, "What? Were you trying to avoid me?" Carlos stares at him evenly, and Jay shakes his head. "Well, now that you're here, do you mind explaining what exactly happened earlier or are you just going to go off and break curfew again?"

He lets out an irritated breath, "Chad got suspended, and the headmistress had a talk with me."

"No. Before that," Jay asserts, "when you and Chad had that… whatever it was."

Carlos mumbles, "What's there to explain?"

"How about why you were egging him on? Or how you were so okay with it?"

He's quiet for a moment, "I don't really know why I did that."

Jay angrily laughs as he takes a step forward, "Okay, then. Then how about you just explain your general behavior for me?"

"My general behavior?" Carlos questions.

"Why you keep putting yourself in these situations," Jay nearly yells. "Because I'd really like to know why. Why do you do these things? Ever since we've got here it's like you've been looking for trouble, getting in arguments with people and breaking rules. And not only that, but it's like you've been setting yourself up to fail. I know you can do better out on that field, and I think you know it too." Carlos doesn't speak, only looking down in thought. "Seriously, all of this masochistic behavior you've been displaying lately, it really doesn't suit you."

"And how would you know that?" he debates.

"Because I know you." Jay takes a step forward, "You're not the kind of person who would do these things."

"Yeah, well," Carlos comebacks, "you also didn't think I was the kind of person who'd ever hurt themselves either."

"That's another thing," he interrupts. "Why do you hurt yourself? You said you needed time, so I've just been standing idly by and watching it happen, but I can't do that anymore. This experiment of yours ends now, and you're going to tell me what the results were."

"Experiments take time," Carlos counters.

"I don't care," Jay infuriates. "I deserve to know. What you're doing is harmful, and can't believe that I'd let you do this destructive behavior without a reason. So, tell me the reason. Why've you been hurting yourself?"

"Because I like it," Carlos yells back, his mouth gaped open in shock of the realization before he continues quietly. "I— I think I might like it."

"So, which is it?" Jay loudly questions. "Do you just think you might like it? Because a sentence ago you seemed pretty damn sure of it."

"I know it's sick. You don't have to tell me it is."

Jay attempts a calming breath, "I didn't say that."

"No, but you were thinking it," Carlos insists. "You, Mal, Fairy Godmother, you all thought it was something I thought I deserved, but it wasn't: it was something I wanted. And the idea of that sickens you, doesn't it?"

"I just don't understand," Jay begins. "It's pain. How can someone— how could you— like pain?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Carlos sadly responds. "I just do."

"Well, try to explain it." He sits down at the table, "I want to understand."

Carlos sits down in front of his books, "I think it depends on the kind of pain and the context of it. I'm sure there's plenty types of pain that I wouldn't like at all. Like spraining an ankle, those hurt and are super annoying."

"And the kinds of pain you do like, "Jay moves on. "What does it feel like?"

"Well, first off," Carlos starts, "I usually still feel the pain. It's just that there's more to it. I don't know why, but it can turn into something pleasant." He looks down at the red notebook, "It can relax me sometimes— or just make me happier, even."

"That's it?" Jay questions. "It just relaxes you and makes you happier?"

Carlos bites his lip before commenting, "Well… it's different when you do it."

"Different when I do it," Jay repeats. "What? You mean when I've hurt you? When have I ever hurt you?"

"It's usually by accident or to make a point," Carlos explains. "I'm sure you've never even noticed."

"Like when I was trying to show you how bad the thing your mother did to you was," Jay remembers.

"Or when you press on a burn you don't know is there," Carlos comments, before Jay looks back at him. "When you do it it's more intense. Not more painful, just more… pleasurable, I guess?"

"Like sexually pleasurable?" Jay questions, and when Carlos stays silent he shakes his head. "What? Is it like that with everyone? Is that why you told Chad to punch you?"

"No. Of course, not," Carlos immediately responds. "It's probably just you because of the context of our relationship."

"Our relationship," Jay unsurely says.

"Because we've done things," he explains before shaking his head. "I don't know how this all works. This is just what I'm thinking might be happening. You asked me to explain to the best of my ability, so I am."

It takes a minute for Jay to ask, "Have you ever thought about me hurting you before? You know, while we were doing other things."

Carlos looks down for a moment, as he honestly answers, "The thought has occurred to me." and when he looks back up Jay seems to be overwhelmed.

"So, is that something you'd want? For me to hurt you while we do those other things?"

Carlos parts his lips before answering, "Yes."

He shakes his head, "I don't think I could do that." before looking into Carlos's dark-brown eyes. "I can't hurt someone I care about."

"Don't worry about it," Carlos dismisses. "You don't have to… pain isn't required for pleasure. It'd just make it better."

"I'm sorry. It's just not something I'm comfortable with."

Carlos shrugs it off, "It's fine. We were fine before. This doesn't change anything." When he sees Jay about to speak he grabs to remote, "You know, we've been here for a few weeks now, and we still haven't really watched anything. What do you say that we find something before going to sleep?"

Jay's silent for a long minute, watching Carlos going through the movie titles, before he merely replies, "Sure. That sounds fine."

* * *

\- And then, there was tense silence. That's it for Day 23. Let me know what you thought.


	43. I Still Want You

**I Still Want You**

 **(Day 25: Wednesday Evening)**

"I still don't know why we have practice those plays," Carlos complains as they head out of the locker room. "It's not like we ever really follow them anyway."

"It's called preparation." Jay smirks, "Something you normally pride yourself on."

"And yet it seems as though I never am."

Jay opens his mouth to speak, but before he can a woman steps out of the nutritionist's office. "You're the boys from the Isle of the Lost, right?"

They glance at each other before Carlos slowly answers, "Yeah."

"Good," the brunette replies. "Do either of you happen to know of an Evie Queen, then?"

"Yeah. She's our friend," Jay frowns in concern.

"Next time you see her would you mind making sure she comes see me. I need to have a talk with her."

"Yeah. Sure thing," Jay answers.

The nutritionist smiles, "Thank you." and Jay fakes a quick smile in response before they continue down the hall.

Carlos comments, "Mal told us Evie was fine."

"Yeah, and I also told her you were fine," Jay informs. "People do stupid things for the people they get close to."

"That's different," Carlos excuses.

"That's exactly why I haven't told her yet."

He stops in his step, "Yet?"

Jay turns to him, "We're like family. They're going to find out eventually."

"I don't know," Carlos slowly retorts. "I can think of something you were able to keep from your dad." Jay doesn't respond, only turning around and striding down the hall.

Carlos chases after him, having to run up a flight of stairs before he reaches him, "I'm just saying that they don't have to know."

It takes a minute for Jay to say, "Don't worry about it. It's not the kind of thing that would easily make its way into a conversation anyway."

After a moment Carlos comments, "I know that you and Mal are like brother and sister, but that doesn't mean you need to tell her everything. Clearly, she feels that way about you."

Jay shakes his head, "No. Her trying to protect Evie or whatever she thought she was doing was just a bad decision. It had nothing to do with me."

Carlos mumbles, "I wasn't trying to imply it was."

When they reach the dorm Jay takes a moment to sincerely tell Carlos, "I know." before he opens the door and they head inside. He walks over to his bed and lays the books down on it, "We should probably go grab Evie now."

"Or," Carlos sets his own stack of books on the table, and then watches as Jay turns around. "We could just do that later when we see her," he smiles as he walks over to Jay, "and maybe do something else first."

After Carlos wraps his arms over his shoulders and kisses him Jay lets out a defeating breath, "I can't give you what you want."

"I don't care." Carlos emphasizes, "I still want you." as he lets go.

"Okay," Jay slightly nods, before he takes his jacket off and drops it to the floor. "Then you can have me."

* * *

\- For those of you who have read another fanfIc of mine, you may laugh when I tell you my keyboard Isn't working again. So, I don't know how much writing and/or posting/Editing I can get done until It fixes Itself again. Sorry.


	44. The Nutritionist

**The Nutritionist**

 **(Day 26: Thursday Morning)**

"Put me down." Evie hits Jay's back, "Put me down."

"Are you going to behave?"

"Yes, yes," Evie gives in, but when Jay sets her down she begins to run.

He grabs her arm and steps out in front of her, "She just wants to talk."

Evie pulls her arm from him, "No. She doesn't want to talk. She's just like everyone else. She's going to trick me into eating something and make me fat."

"She's a nutritionist," Carlos comments from behind her. "All she wants to do is make sure your body is getting all the right nutrients to survive."

Evie glares at him, "All she's going to do is increase my waistline." before she turns back to Jay, grabs onto his jacket, and pleads. "Don't make me go. My beauty is the only thing I have. It's the only good thing people see when they look at me. Please, don't do this to me."

Jay turns her around, grabs hold her shoulders, and pushes her along down the hall, "We're doing this for your own good."

* * *

When Jay knocks on the door it is almost immediately answered by the brown haired nutritionist, "Awe. You must be Evie. Why don't you come in and have a seat."

Evie looks over her shoulder, but there's no escape. Jay nudges her forward into the room, "She was very reluctant to come."

"That's because I'm fine," Evie grits her teeth at him, before she turns to the woman. "All of your time and energy is going to be wasted on me. You should just let me go."

The nutritionist looks over her for a second before merely stating, "Take a seat."

Carlos asks, "Can we stay, make sure she's being honest and everything?"

She looks at Evie, "Do you mind?"

Evie scoffs, "Let them stay. They don't know anything."

"Alright, then," the nutritionist replies as she sits down in her wheeled desk chair. Evie sits down in the chair nearest to the woman and peers over at scribbles, before the woman looks up and displays an oddly kind expression. "I'm sure you already know why you're here."

"People think I have a problem." She eyes her in disdain, "I don't have a problem."

"Then you won't mind telling me what you ate this week," the brunette calmly responds as she readies her pen.

Evie looks back over at Carlos and Jay, before she shakes her head and lets out a breath, "I had a couple smoothies. Some celery and carrots."

"And the week before that?" the nutritionist prompts.

"About the same thing," Evie remarks. "And the week before that it was a piece of rock candy. Big deal."

"Is that all you had that week?"

She looks from the guys and then back to the woman, "Yes."

The woman nods before evenly looking up at her, "Is there a reason why you didn't have anything else that week?"

Evie glances at the floor for a second, "Does there have to be a reason?"

"There usually is." The nutritionist explains, "There are people who restrict their food intake when they feel as though they've eaten too much or if they have a 'bad food'." Evie watches as the words are put in finger quotations. "Or maybe there was just a voice telling you that you didn't deserve to eat, that you don't need to, that it's selfish and detrimental to yourself or others in some way."

"I—" She takes a stressed breath before asserting, "I don't hear a voice."

"Then why did you do it?"

When Evie stays silent Carlos answers, "Because her mother told her to."

The woman is quiet as she looks from Carlos to Evie, "Is that true?"

Evie half laughs, "Why does it matter." before she gestures. "What do any of these questions even prove?"

She observes Evie carefully, "I'm just trying to gather information on what your food intake is like and the reasons behind it, so I may help you make a reasonable plan to make you healthy again."

"I knew it," Evie narrows her eyes at her. "You don't want to talk. This was just all some ploy to trap me in here and make me fat."

"You're not trapped," the nutritionist uneasily replies. "And the objective is not to make you fat. The objective is find out what your current diet and exercise looks like so that—"

Evie stands from the chair, "If I'm not trapped here, then I'd like to leave."

The woman is quiet for a moment, "How about just one more question, then?" and Evie glares at her. "What kind of exercise or physical activity do you regularly have?"

She crosses her arms, "Well, sweat isn't very pretty, so even though I've found some great exercises recently, I really do prefer to just go for walks." The nutritionist nods as she jots it down. "Can I leave now?"

The brunette takes a couple business cards and offers one to Evie, "This is a very good psychologist. I'd like you to see her." She doesn't take it. "She's paid to hear you talk about your past, any fears or insecurities you may have, and to help you move past them. It's literally just talking. She won't make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I'm not paying to see someone I don't want to see."

"You won't have to," she reassures. "Your health insurance will cover a weekly visit."

Evie shakes her head, "No. I'm not going." before she heads for the door. With a nod from the doctor, Jay and Carlos let her pass.

The nutritionist stands and hands a card to each of them, "Eating disorders are as much a psychological issue as they are a physical issue… maybe even more so. Please. Convince her to go. It really is just talking."

Jay nods, "Don't worry. If we were able to get her here, then we can get her there."

"We'll bribe her if we have to," Carlos adds on. "Maybe then she'd actually stay."

* * *

\- I'm going to be honest and say that I've never been to a nutritionist before. I did try to do some research, but I can't guarantee the accuracy of what I've written or what I plan to write as far as this is concerned.

\- So, weird... My keyboard as inexplicably started to function properly again. I don't know if this is temporary and that in five minutes it will stop working again or if it will actually behave for a couple weeks, but if it does continue to behave, then there's no worry about the writing and editing/posting... although, I will say you're starting to catch up to where I'm currently at in the writing portion of all this. I'm only nine chapters ahead of you, and day 27 has four chapters to post. So, yeah...


	45. The Difference between Life and Death

**The Difference between Life and Death**

 **(Day 27: Friday Afternoon)**

"Ben. Can you come up here for a minute?"

Ben stands from his desk and walks up to the middle-aged man, "Yes, Mr. Conrad. What is it?" before he sees the graded assignment lying on the desk.

He holds up the paper, "A C, Ben? This isn't you."

Ben shakes his head, "That's impossible. I've been studying. I haven't even been skipping half of the reading lately. This must be a mistake."

The teacher lays the paper back down, "Ben." before he folds his hands. "I know that being king must be putting a lot of stress on you."

"What does that have to do with this?" he questions as he furrows his eyebrows.

It takes a moment for Mr. Conrad to say, "Ben. I'm worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately, and, frankly, your appearance shows it."

"My appearance?"

"You look exhausted," the teacher explains. "How much sleep have you been getting?"

Ben shakes his head, "I'm fine. I don't feel tired. I mean… maybe just a little drained, but not tired." He sees the balding man nod, as if he's taking the information in. "What?"

"I need to ask you this, and I want you to be honest with me." Ben doesn't speak. "Is there a chance that you thought you would be able to handle your schedule better if you could stay awake longer?"

"I…" Ben lets out a confused breath, "I don't understand."

"Are you taking something to stay awake?"

"What? No!" Ben looks behind himself and sees several students staring at him, before he leans in and stresses, "I'm not taking anything."

Mr. Conrad looks down for a second, "Ben. If you are—"

"I'm not," Ben yells, before he shakes his head again. "What's wrong with everyone? I'm just a guy trying to get through this life. There's nothing wrong with me, and I'm not doing anything I'm not supposed to be doing."

"Ben," the teacher says, trying to get his attention, as Ben picks his books up from the front row and begins to leave. "If you do this, then I'm going to have to call your parents."

"Then do it," Ben exasperates. "I'm not doing anything wrong, and I have nothing to hide." He glances at the floor, realizing there is something he's hiding; however, it is a something of which his parents are already aware of. He looks back up and calmly comments, "I'm going to Communications."

* * *

"Ben?" The class looks at him. "I thought you had Psychology today."

It takes a moment for him to say, "I wasn't really learning anything I don't already know."

The brown haired teacher smiles, "Well. I'm afraid you won't be learning much here either. I was just about to put on a film for the class."

"No," Ben tiredly objects. "That sounds interesting."

"Alright, then." He gestures to the desks, "Take a seat." and it's not a minute later that Ben sits down next to Aziz.

"Hey."

Ben glances at him, "Hey."

When the room darkens and the projector lights up the board Aziz comments, "You know, it was a bad idea to leave when you did."

"Why?" Ben mumbles.

"Well. I mean, it kind of looks bad." Ben looks up at him. "As a royal, you should have known not to leave the team so soon after what happened. Now people are going to think those things about you are true."

"But you don't?" he inquires.

Aziz tries to smile, "The coach said you just weren't feeling well, and you claimed the shove was just an adrenaline rush… I'd like to believe you."

"But you don't," Ben replies before shaking his head.

"I admit I have questions," Aziz honestly answers. "However, what I really don't get is why the coach would protect you only to have you leave the team."

Ben looks down at his things, "We just came to the conclusion that it was no longer a suitable environment for me to be in."

"Okay," he begins. "As your friend, I'm going to tell you not to phrase it like that to anyone else." Ben looks back up at him. "If anyone has heard about the possibility of you using performance enhancers, then they're going to think that you and Coach decided it was an unfit environment simply because it caused enough stress for you to use."

"But I didn't," Ben rejects. "I don't."

"That won't matter." He watches him place a hand to his temple and forehead, "Hey. It's going to be okay."

Ben shakes his head, "No. It's not that." before he starts searching through his things. "I think I forgot to do something this morning."

"What?"

"My tics-tacs," Ben whispers anxiously. "Do you see them anywhere?"

Aziz looks at the desks before glancing at the floor around them, "No. I don't see them anywhere." before he watches Ben put his hand back to his head. "What's going on?"

Ben tries to take a calming breath, "I'm just not feeling very great at this second, and I thought a couple might help me a little.

"If you're not feeling well, then you should go see the nurse."

"No," Ben immediately says with wide eyes, but he continues with less panic at the sight of Aziz's questioning look. "I— The class. I don't want to interrupt the class."

"What are you going to do?" he slightly laughs at the absurdity. "Just wait it out?"

"Yes." Ben seriously answers, "There's only like fifteen minutes left. I can wait." and that's what he does. He stares down at the watch he wears and counts down the seconds. _Just fifteen more minutes. Just thirteen more minutes. If I feel any worse in five minutes, then I will leave. I could just sneak out of here. Just ten more minutes. I can handle it._

"Hey. How are you doing?"

Ben glances at him and opens his mouth to speak, but in the end he merely looks back down at his desk and watch. _Nine minutes. I can make it another three. Eight. What if we get to end early? Seven. I might as well just stay. Six. Five._ He watches as the lights are switched back on, and he blinks several times as his eyes adjust to the large amount of light.

"So, you see class," the teacher stares out at them. "Communication is very important. It may be the difference between someone's life and someone's death." Ben feels Aziz looking at him, but he ignores it. "I hope you all found the video very informative and entertaining." Ben slowly moves his head, as he watches his classmates gather their things, and it's not soon after that the bell rings. "That's it for today. Remember that your reports are due Monday." A quarter of the people have already left. "If everyone gets a B or higher, then we can watch another video on Thursday."

"Ben?"

Ben looks up and sees Aziz standing next to him on the left side of the classroom, and with another glance around he finds that practically everyone has left. So, he stands to his feet and reluctantly takes his hand from the desk. The teacher is staring at him. He sees him staring at him, so he moves his foot forward. Something is off. Things look different somehow. "Ben?" He looks back at the teacher but remains silent. "Benjamin?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but he finds himself unable to. Instead, he takes another step forward to prove he's okay, but in the end his eyes cross and he falls to the floor. "Ben," Aziz yells as the teacher hurries over.

"Ben," the teacher shakes him.

"He said he wasn't feeling well," Aziz informs.

The teacher places a hand to Ben's forehead, "He's very warm. We need to get him to the nurse." but then Ben makes a noise and his eyes crack open.

"Ben," Aziz lets out in relief. "It's okay. We're going to get you to the nurse."

"No. no," Ben whispers. "Dor— horm."

Aziz looks at the teacher in concern, "He really doesn't want to see the nurse."

"Well, that's just too bad," the teacher instructs, "because that's exactly where we're taking him."

Ben raises his arm to push the teacher in the shoulder, but he doesn't budge. "What is it?" asks Aziz. "Having a little trouble pushing him across the room?" Ben roars at him, and Aziz laughs. "So, that rumor was true, then." Ben lays his head back down on the carpet, and Aziz grabs hold of his upper arm, "Come on. If you can roar, then you can stand. Get up." Ben complies, but the moment he stands he passes out and Aziz struggles to keep him upright.

* * *

\- That whole line about how important communication is and how it can be the difference between life and death has to be my favorite quote in this chapter. It's just so suspenseful and foreshadowing. Did I scare you?... Oh. Wait. You probably want to see the conclusion to this first. Right. Okay. Next chapter. I hope you're enjoying this.


	46. Human

**Human**

 **(Day 27: Friday Evening)**

Ben brings a hand to his head, "Where am I?" before he sees Aziz sitting in a chair on the other side of the room.

"You're in the nurse's office."

"What?" Ben widens his eyes and sits up from the bed, "I— I can't be here." before he slides himself off from the bed. "You've got to get me out of here."

"Ben." Aziz tries to reason, "You're sick. You need help."

"So, you brought me here?" He steadies himself by keeping a hand on the bed, "That nurse doesn't know about me— she doesn't know how to treat me. If she sees my temperature, then she's going to send me to the ER and they're going to kill me."

"I don't care what you are," Aziz stresses. "No one is going to kill you."

Ben frowns, "I'm human."

"Then you shouldn't have any problems, then, should you?" he remarks, but then he watches as Ben shakes his head and struggles to walk forward. "Your fever has weakened you. You need to get back onto the bed."

He falls to his knees and rests his arm on the end of the bed, as he leans his head against the side of the soft leather, "I'm so dead."

Aziz hears the muffled crying and stands to his feet, before he goes over to grab his arm, help him up, and seat him back onto the bed. He watches as Ben tries to wipe the tears away, "No one is going to kill you. You're my friend. I won't let that happen."

Ben looks at him, "You can't let them take me."

Aziz notices the hurt in Ben's eyes, and he can't help but compare it to that of a helpless, wounded puppy, "Don't worry. I won't let that happen."

Their eye contact breaks when the brown haired nurse enters the room. "I see you're awake." She stands in front of him, "How are you feeling?"

Ben doesn't answer, only turning his head away in response, so Aziz answers for him. "He was a little disorientated at first, but he's better now."

"Okay, then." The nurse takes the thermometer off of the wall, "Now that you're awake, we can check your temperature." She places the stick in front of Ben.

He stares at it for a second, before he looks up at her, "My parents have a legal right to know what's going on. Have you called them yet?"

"We tried," Sarah answers, "but we were unable to reach them."

Ben reaches for his pockets, but he finds them to have been emptied, "Where's my phone. They'll pick up for me."

"It's right there," the nurse points to the counter where his books also lay. "You can call them, but first I need you to take this." Ben rolls his eyes before leaning forward and taking the thermometer into his mouth, and all he can do is watch as the number on the wall increases more and more. "A hundred and five point three." The nurse looks at him worriedly, "With a fever like that you should really be in the emergency room right now."

"No," Ben panics, and he blinks a few times as he tries to steady his breathing. "I don't need the ER. I jus'— I just need some ibuprofen, or Tylenol, or anything really. Just give me something. Do you have anything like that?" The nurse moves over to a drawer, takes out a bottle, and when she returns she hands him a blue, gel pill. Ben widens his eyes and stresses, "One isn't going to do anything. I need three."

Nurse Sarah sets the water on the table, "A single dose is one pill. You're not supposed to take more than one every four to six hours."

"I don't care what the label says," Ben yells. "I need three. I always have three."

"You're getting one," the nurse yells back, before she shuts her eyes and continues in a calmer tone. "Sorry. It's policy. I need to follow the instructions on the label, or else I and this school are both viable for anything that happens to you."

"And if your king dies from a simple fever," Ben complains, "how do you think people are going to react to that?"

"Well, if your parents would just pick up, then you'd probably be in the emergency room right now and then it wouldn't even be an issue."

"You're right," Ben nods, before he finally swallows the pill he'd been given. "It wouldn't even be an issue. So, hand me my phone and I'll call her."

When the nurse hands Ben his phone he calls his mom, and it's only after two rings that she picks up, "Hey, honey. What's going on?"

"I'm in the nurse's office."

"The nurse's office," she worries. "Wh— what are you doing in a nurse's office."

It takes a second for him to confess, "I may have forgotten to take my medicine this morning, and I passed out in class."

"Well, honey. You need to be more careful."

"I know."

She nearly cuts him off, "Are you alright?"

Ben almost starts with saying yes, but he finds himself unable to, "The nurse only gave me one ibuprofen, and I'm unable to leave. She's talking about some nonsense of me going to the ER."

"Well, she's not doing that," his mother contests.

"Would you like to talk some sense into her?" he asks, and when she says yes he hands the phone to the nurse. "She'd like to speak with you."

"Yes?" Nurse Sarah answers. There's a long silence. "That's what he said too, but my hands are tied. I can't do that." A second later she responds, "I suppose if he had his own, then I could say I didn't know about it." There's more silence. "Wait. A hundred and one, but that's still too high." She places a hand to her hip, "Look. His temperature is at a hundred and five. Any more and he's at risk for brain damage. As a professional in the medical field, I highly recommend for you to let us send him to the hospital." There's another pause, before she slowly says, "Right. Yeah. I'll take care of him."

When Ben is handed the phone back he hears his mother ask, "Ben?" and he acknowledges his presence. "If she gives you any more trouble, then call us. Okay?"

"Yeah," Ben says into the phone. "Don't worry. I will."

He can hear the smile in her voice, "I love you. Get well now, and call me later."

"Okay." Ben attempts to smile back, "Thank you." and when he hangs up he questions the nurse. "What all did she tell you?"

The nurse shakes her head, "To trust you when you say you need something, to let you go when your fever gets back to a hundred and one, and that under no circumstances should I allow you to be taken to the emergency room." Ben nods. "She said you had your own medicine?"

Ben nods before turning to Aziz, "I have a blue bin under my bed. Can you go to my dorm and get me two more ibuprofen and a packet of Alka-Seltzer?"

He stands from his seat, "Yeah. Of course." before he hurries out of the room.

* * *

"Are you sure you should be taking all of that?" Aziz questions, as Ben takes in the fizziness of the Alka-Seltzer drink.

Ben smiles, "There's no need to worry. I take this every time my fever gets this high. It's fine." and when the fizz starts to settle he uses the drink to swallow the pills. "You could never understand how much I appreciate this drink. It always feels as though it kicks in immediately."

"Does that mean you don't have a fever anymore?"

Ben laughs, "Let's give it fifteen minutes to do its job. We can check it again then."

Aziz nods, "Okay."

Ben continues, "And in any case…" He stares down at the white floor for a long moment, before he looks seriously up at Aziz. "When it comes to me, fever is a relative term."

He shakes his head, "I don't understand."

"It's not really something I'm supposed to be talking about," Ben starts, "but what you've had to help me with today… it's something I've had to deal with my entire life." He looks up and finds his friend's mouth slightly gaped open in shock. "As an infant and toddler I had many visits to the doctor, as a child my parents would come to school to check on me and provide medicine when needed, and when I grew older they entrusted the gym teacher— my coach for after school sports— to look after me."

"Coach Jenkins," Aziz responds with awe.

"He kept an eye on me, always made sure I was doing okay," Ben remembers, "but when things got more complicated I was told to just keep some medicine on me at all times for emergencies." He gestures, "That's what my tic-tacs are. They're actually Tylenal."

"Well, that certainly explains a lot," Aziz nearly laughs, "like why you were always so selfish in wanting to keep them all to yourself."

"You only say it's selfish, because I didn't give any to you."

"Maybe," Aziz admits with a smile, "but still."

"But still," Ben recalls, "somewhere out there there's a tic-tac container filled with headache pills, and I have no clue where I left it."

"You're worried someone will take them."

"No," Ben shakes his head. "I would hope the people at this school could tell what a tic-tac is not supposed to taste like. No." He quiets for a moment. "I'm afraid that when someone inevitably finds them that someone will either know it's mine or that the school will conduct a search to find out who they belonged to."

"A search just to find out who had headache pills?" Aziz asks skeptically.

"No," Ben answers. "A search to find out who had pharmaceuticals hidden in a mint's case."

"Oh… well, when you think of it like that—"

"It's bad," Ben finishes. "As far as they're going to be concerned, they're either going to have some junkie or idiot teenager on their hands."

"Just an idea," Aziz starts before Ben looks back up at him. "Maybe if you were more honest with people, then you wouldn't be in this situation— any of this situation."

Ben laughs, "Because it's just that easy." before taking a moment to uneasily think over the situation. "My parents have made it clear that I can't tell anyone. Ever since I was little they told me that if anyone found out that I… they used to call it an illness. They told me that if anyone knew, then they may see me as unfit to take the throne. Even Jenkins." Ben shakes his head, "Jenkins said that if anyone knew about me, then I'd be putting myself in danger."

"I fail to see how telling someone about your fevers would put you in danger."

"That's because it's not just the fever," he explains, before he shakes his head. "It's the fever, my quote 'natural athleticism', everything… He called it a condition, whatever that's supposed to mean." He hears Aziz laugh. "I'm glad you find my suffering so hilarious."

"No." Aziz shakes his head, "It's not that." and it takes him a minute to settle down enough to explain. "Earlier today, it's just that I'm pretty sure you tried to roar at me."

"Really?" Ben questions. "I don't remember that."

"Yeah." Aziz informs, "You also tried to push the teacher across the room when he mentioned the nurse, but you were so weak he didn't even budge."

"Did—" Ben glances at the floor for a second, "Did I scare you?"

"What, you mean with that sad roar of yours," he laughs. "No. If anything it was kind of cute. I mean, not at the time, obviously, with your life being in danger and all. But, yeah."

"Cute?" Ben questions.

"Yeah. Like, have you ever seen a tiger cub try to roar?"

"I can easily say that I haven't."

"Well, it was a lot like that," Aziz explains. "It was like you were just trying so hard to be powerful and fierce, but when you tried to roar it was nothing more than scratchy vocal cords."

"And that's cute?" Ben questions.

"Well. I am comparing you to a cat." Aziz shrugs, "It's something you'd have to see for yourself to understand. I could pull up a video if you'd like to see."

"No, thanks," he passes. "I'll just take your word for it."

Aziz observes him carefully, "You seem bothered."

Ben shakes his head, "I'm not a cat."

"I never said you were."

"I'm human," Ben reminds him.

"Yeah," Aziz slowly comments. "That's why you're able to toss someone across the room and sprint across the field without breaking a sweat."

"Those are— It's just conditioning," Ben reasons. "I'm human."

"If you're so human," Aziz asserts, "then why are you so insistent in telling me that you are?" Ben doesn't speak, but his mouth remains open as he readies an excuse. "Look. We've known each other for a long time, and I think I know you fairly well by now." Ben shuts his mouth and remains quiet, as Aziz continues, "If you do happen to be some kind of hybrid or anything, then I'd be okay with that."

"You would be?" Ben questions.

"I mean, yeah." Aziz smiles, "A person's species is something that tends to be a part of them their entire lives. If I liked you before knowing, then there's no reason for me not to like you after you admit to it."

Ben shifts his eyes, "There's nothing to admit to." before he examines his friend's expression. "You would think that if I were some hybrid, then my doctor would have told me— that my parents would have told me. I mean, it's their genes, right?" He shakes his head, "No. I'm completely human. I have to be."

* * *

\- Seriously, though. I've been looking at videos of lion and tiger cubs a lot lately, and they are super cute. If they didn't grow up so fast— or at all— then I'd want to take one home with me. There's nothing like a feisty kitty.


	47. Medicine

**Medicine**

 **(Day 27: Friday Evening)**

When Ben returns to his dorm he stands in the doorway in paralyzing fear, as he sees Doug sitting on the bed and searching the computer as he holds a bottle of pills in his hand over the opened blue bin. "What are you doing?" Ben finally says as he comes in and slams the door behind himself for privacy.

Doug is speechless, as he looks from the bottle to Ben, "Aziz left it open. So, I just— just—"

Ben strides over and snatches the bottle from him, "So, you went through it?"

Doug looks away at the sound of the anger and the sight of his betrayal, "I just had to know what was going on." He looks back at him. "Ben. Are you— Do you—"

Ben drops the bottle back into the bin and paces the room, "I can't believe this. How much has to go wrong in one day?"

"Ben," Doug starts again, but then Ben punches the wall.

He grips the bottom inch of wall from the hole he had made, as he rests his forehead on the wall. "I'm not on anything."

"I wasn't going to ask if you were," Doug quietly replies.

Ben slowly turns and stares at him, unconvinced, "Really?"

"Are you okay?" He points, "Your hand is bleeding."

"Odd," Ben remarks as he rotates his hand for a good look. "I didn't even feel that."

"You should clean it in the bathroom. You know, to prevent infection."

"Right," Ben agrees, before he goes back over and moves past his bed to reach the bathroom.

When the water turns back off Doug evenly responds, "I'm guessing you've been accused a lot of taking drugs recently."

Ben steps out into the doorway, "It has been a running theme."

"I will admit," Doug confesses, "that with your lack of sleep lately and these emotional outbursts… I was kind of wondering it too."

"But you just said you didn't think I was on anything."

"I mean, yeah," Doug shrugs. "I don't now… even though I would like to know how you punched through that wall."

Ben walks back over to it, examining the hole, supporting planks, and the wall behind those planks. "I just… I'm just a little strong." He turns back around and insists, "You can't tell anyone about this."

Doug looks at him in disbelief, "I'm pretty sure someone is going to figure it out once they see it."

"No," Ben shakes his head, before he goes over to the poster of the periodic table and takes it off of the wall.

"Hey. That's mine. What are you—"

"It's fixed now," Ben interrupts, as he moves to reveal the poster covering the hole.

Doug shakes his head, "Ben. That's not going to change the fact that there's a hole there. What happens at the end of the school year when we move out?"

"Look." Ben takes a step forward, "I promise I'll get someone in here to fix it. Just, please, don't tell anyone."

He almost laughs, "You make it sound like you have something to hide."

"I don't," Ben reassures.

"Really?" Doug questions, before he gestures to the bin. "Then what exactly is all of this?"

Ben eyes the large container, "It's just medicine."

"I mean, yeah," he accepts, "but it's an awful lot of medicine. You've got like three forms of headache medication and a ton of flu and cold stuff." He sees Ben look away. "Is there something I should know about?"

Ben looks back at him, "No. No, there isn't."

Doug places a hand to his forehead, "Ben. I'm your roommate." before he looks up again for answers. "Just tell me what's going on."

Ben shakes his head and goes over to grab his backpack, "That's a hard thing to do when I'm doing absolutely nothing."

"Are you sick?" Ben stops placing the items in his bag. "Oh, my God. Ben."

"I'm fine," he insists as he finishes placing the school supplies in the back pocket, and then he zips it shut. "There's nothing to worry about."

Doug watches as Ben goes off into the bathroom, "You're not packing a bag just because of me, are you?"

"No. Of course, not."

"Then why are you leaving?"

Ben exits the bathroom and sets his blue backpack on the bed, "I'm going to my parents early, but it has nothing to do with you." before he opens the third pocket. "I was already planning on going there. I just know they're going to be worried."

"Why would they be worried?"

Ben grabs a bottle of ibuprofen from the bin and sighs, "Look. I need you to know that I'm really not supposed to talk about this to anyone, and if I tell you then you'd be the second or third person to find out today."

It takes a second for Doug to respond, "I'm your roommate. If anyone has a right to know, it's me." He looks down, "I mean, what happens if something happens to you and I can't help, because I didn't know whatever it is that's going on with you?"

Ben opens the light bottle and shakes his head at the one remaining pill, before he grabs another bottle and adds five pills to the first one. "I've been able to handle it myself this long."

"Uh. Clearly not," Doug refutes. "Not if you're ending up in the nurse's office and having Aziz come get this stuff for you."

Ben places the bottle in the front pocket along with a packet of Alka-Seltzer, before he zips it up and sits down on the bed himself. He sees Doug watching intently, just waiting for answers. He clasps his hands together and looks down at them before nodding, "You're right. I can't keep doing this by myself." He looks back up at him, "But my parents have ordered me not to tell anyone about this."

"Who cares?" Doug infuriates. "You're making decisions for the kingdom— for the whole damn country. If you're old enough to do that, then I think you're old enough to make decisions about your own life."

Ben laughs, "Yeah. That's a really good point."

"Yeah," Doug stresses, "it is. So, why don't you stop avoiding this and just tell me what's going on already."

Ben shifts his seating and offers a serious look, "If I tell you, then you can't tell anyone else. Ever."

Doug glances down at the bin for a second, before he looks at him evenly, "I'll take it to my grave, so long as it doesn't take you to yours."

Ben nods, "Well, first off. You asked why my parents would be worried."

"Yes," Doug recalls. "I did."

"Well," Ben starts. "The reason why they're probably going to be worried is because the last time I spoke to my mom I was in the nurse's office."

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

Ben shakes his head, "Um, no. It really isn't." and as the memory invades his mind, it takes him a minute to explain. "What I have… I suppose you can just call it a condition— there's no name for it— but it makes me different in these weird ways."

Doug glances at the wall, "And?"

"And," Ben continues, "only my doctor knows how to handle it." He sadly laughs, "There have been times before where I'd be treated by people who had no clue about me, and… well." He blinks to prevent tears. "Let's just say I'm lucky to even be sitting here right now."

"Wait," Doug shakes his head. "You can't possibly be saying that you've almost died because of a nurse or doctor before."

"Multiple times," Ben informs, before he shakes his head. "It was when I was younger. I had no idea what was going on. I thought everything I was going through was completely normal, and whenever an adult told me to do something or go somewhere I did."

"God," Doug looks at him in shock.

"My parents were always so furious at whoever it was that had me seek treatment." He attempts to smile, "I remember this one time, especially, when I was having a sleepover at Chad's and his mother took me to the doctor."

"Why did she take you to the doctor?" Doug asks, half in confusion and half in interest.

"Well. I have a really high body temperature, and when I tried to explain to her that it's been like that and that my parents knew about it, she didn't even bother to call them." He laughs, "They just took me to the doctor there, and—" He shakes his head. "I was already taking medication to reduce my fever, so when they gave me more medicine I got really sick. Like, vomiting and everything. My stomach just hurt so badly, and I'm pretty sure that was one of the first times in my life that I actually had a headache."

Doug furrows his eyebrows, "They gave you an overdose."

"Yeah." Ben half laughs, "I'm aware of that now."

Doug shakes his head, "I don't believe this."

Ben frowns, "It happened." before glancing down for a moment. "I wouldn't make this kind of thing up."

"No. I know," Doug irritably responds. "What I don't believe is that someone who goes to school specifically for medicine for four to ten years could almost kill a royal."

"It's not their fault," Ben excuses. "They're not trained in this kind of thing."

"It does matter," Doug debates. "If it can happen to you, then that means it could happen to anyone."

"No," Ben shakes his head.

"Ben," he insists.

"No," Ben interrupts. "It's not their fault." He takes a relaxing breath, before the realization hits him and he shakes his head again. "Look." He sees Doug looking just as angry as before, "There just isn't enough funding for everything, and doctors—" He silences for a moment. "Doctors are trained to treat humans, and with how different I am… well, I might as well not even be." He sees his friend's expression even out, "It's not something that could happen to anyone. It just happened to me, because… well. Because I'm different."

* * *

\- I really want to hear your thoughts on this chapter. What do you think about the doctors not knowing how to treat nonhumans or hybrids? What about Ben's backstory? Anything you have to say, I'd really like to read.


	48. The Explanation

**The Explanation**

 **(Day 27: Friday Night)**

"Ben?"

"Hi Mom." He walks forward as he sees her place the bookmark and set the novel aside.

When he sits down next to her on the red, two-seater couch she sees his frown and his eyes glisten, "Honey. What's wrong?"

He hugs her, "I love you."

She places a hand on his back, "I love you too." before he lets go.

He shakes his head, "I was so scared. If you hadn't answered— if neither of you had answered— I honestly don't know what I would have done."

"But we did answer," his mother reassures as she takes his hand. "That's all that matters." However, she then sees the swollen knuckles and scraped skin, "What happened?"

Ben half-laughs, "Oh. That. I just fell."

"You fell?" his mother questions in disbelief.

"On a wall," he finishes. "A lot happened today."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Ben is quiet for a long moment, before he looks up at her seriously, "Did, um." He takes a breath, "Did Mr. Conrad call you?"

"I don't know," she starts. "Your father and I were really busy with that interview and everything we had today. The only call I picked up today was yours." Ben nods. "Why? Was I supposed to have received a call from him?"

"He just said he was going to call you," Ben answers. "We were talking about my grade, and then I decided to head off to Communications instead."

"Cutting class?" his mother asks. "Ben. That's very unlike you."

"But it was to attend another class," he excuses.

She smiles at him, "Well. At least you weren't off doing drugs." but when she sees the expression he offers in response her smile falters. "Ben."

"I'm not," he assures, but there's a few seconds of silence before he explains. "Some people just think I am, including Mr. Conrad. That's the real reason why I left class."

"Well, what kind of drugs do they think you're taking?"

"Mr. Conrad thinks I'm taking something to keep myself awake." He laughs, "The tourney team just thinks I was taking performance enhancers. Oh." He looks up at her again, "By the way, I quit the tourney team."

She shuts her eyes and lets out a long breath, "Okay. We're just going to have to table that for later." before she looks at him seriously. "I don't suppose you know why they think you're on these things."

"Because I'm strong?" Ben guesses. "Chad and I got into it, and he just didn't want to stop. I tried not to fight him, honestly, but he just wouldn't back off."

His mother shakes her head, "So, what exactly? You fought back?"

"No," Ben quickly reassures, but then he falls silent. "I just kind of pushed him back. When he didn't stop the first time, I pushed harder the second time… I'm sorry."

She places a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay." before he looks back up at her. "But you know you don't have the luxury to defend yourself in such a way. You're stronger than other people. You can't let your emotions get the better of you."

Ben nods, "I know, and like I said I tried. I dodged his punch, but I knew he wouldn't stop." He looks at her questioningly, "What would you have had me do?"

She looks at him seriously, "I would have had you not lay a finger on him." and Ben looks away in apparent disbelief. "Dodging punches is good. In fact, it's great; however, when you get into an altercation you can't be the one enacting the violence."

"So, I should be the one to receive it?" Ben questions, his eyes starting to tear up again. "You'd have me just stand there and take it."

"No. Of course, not, but you do heal a little faster than most people. Whoever you're fighting, they won't have that and they won't have your strength." Ben stays quiet. "It's a hard thing. I know. I'd never want anything bad to happen to you, but you have to realize that you can cause more harm to someone else than they could ever do to you."

Ben places his head in his hand, hiding the tears that escape his eyes, "What if something were to happen. If someday someone tries to hurt me and I feel the need to defend myself." He looks back up to gauge her reaction. "If we both got hurt, would you still have encouraged me not to have done anything?"

"That's an unfair question," his mother strongly replies.

"No." Ben shakes his head, "I think it's plenty fair. If someone came at me with a knife and I tossed them across the room and knocked them out, then who would you be more worried about? Who would you go to and help first?"

She doesn't speak for a long minute, "It would depend on the circumstances."

Ben huffs, "I just told you the circumstances."

"Ben," his mother shuts her eyes, but he doesn't let her speak.

"Why am I not allowed to defend myself," he angrily comments. "What is it? Do you think I could seriously hurt someone, that I'd do it purposefully even?"

She opens her eyes, "It's never purposeful." and she brings a hand to her hair before continuing. "Accidents happen. I just want to make sure you make as few of them as possible."

"Accidents," Ben repeats.

"Yes," his mother sternly responds. "Accidents. Whether it be part of some instinctual defense or as part of some emotional outburst, you could hurt people. You may even hurt those you care about the most."

He shakes his head, "No. I wouldn't do that."

"Sadly, what you think you wouldn't do doesn't matter." He sees her insistence. "You don't know what you would do in the moment. No one does. All we can do is train you to behave in a certain way, to think in a certain way, which will allow you to make it through those tough moments in one piece, along with everyone else." Ben stays quiet, so she reaches for his hand again. "I've taught you to be smart, to think logically, and we've tried to teach you not to make your decisions rashly out of pure emotion. You don't need to fight anyone. When it comes to those moments, I trust that you will be able to think clearly enough to come up with a solution that doesn't involve physical contact with another. You're smart. You can use your words."

"Just as you trained me to," Ben furrows his eyebrows at the realization.

"Exactly." His mother smiles, "You can defend yourself through words and general intelligence. You don't need to fight anyone with your strength." Ben continues to look at her questioningly, before his phone rings and he takes it from his pocket. "Aren't you going to answer it?"

He glances back up at her, "Ah, it's Mal. She's been calling me all evening."

"And you haven't responded to her yet?"

"I thought you would want me to come up with an explanation with you first." He looks away for a moment, "After I passed out in class, I'm sure plenty of people saw me being carried to the nurse's."

She nods, "Yes. How about the flu?"

"The flu?" Ben questions.

"Yes. You can tell people you hadn't really been feeling well, but you still felt the need to attend class. When your fever went up too high you passed out, and then you were carried to the nurse's to be looked at."

"I just had the flu last month."

"So, getting it again now can only make you appear more human."

"But I am human," Ben states. "I shouldn't have to prove that I am one."

"No. Of course," his mother agrees. "However, you are special, and you're going to have to prove to people that you're just as ordinary as they are."

Ben nods, "Alright. That's what I'll tell her then."

* * *

\- I don't know about Ben, but if I were him I'd be getting really sick of being called "special" by now. What about you guys?


	49. Sleep

**Sleep**

 **(Day 29: Sunday Night)**

"Now that I think about it, you weren't feeling very well last week either, were you?"

"Uh. No," Ben answers as he and Mal sit with his parents. "I wasn't."

Mal smiles, "I'm kind of surprised I didn't get sick too." before she pokes her fork into the dark turkey.

"Yes," Ben swiftly replies, as he glances at his mother, "It is a little contradictory." He turns back to his girlfriend. "But I haven't done a lot of coughing or sneezing, so it's not that surprising."

She looks at him oddly, "Yes." and then laughs. "I guess."

Adam interrupts, "You know, Son, I was actually meaning to ask."

Ben looks at him, "Yes, Dad?"

He points to his hand, "What happened there?"

"Oh. That," Ben starts.

His mother laughs as she reaches for her husband's arm, "He fell on a wall."

"Oh." He returns his attention to Ben, "Did he?"

"Yes. Well," Ben explains, "between all of the stressful rumors going around school and my sleep not being very great… I think it may have caused my emotional control to become a little lax." He peers back up to find his parents giving each other concerned looks. "What?"

"You've been having trouble sleeping?" his mother inquires.

Ben shifts his eyes down, "It's not a big deal."

"If it affects your thoughts and behaviors," his mother stresses, "then it is a big deal." He lifts his head back up. "How much sleep have you been managing? I mean, is it just that you have trouble getting to or staying asleep, and then only end up having gotten a few hours?" Ben opens his mouth to speak, but then he shuts it, unwilling to make his mom feel any more worried. "A couple days without sleep?" his mother questions again, and he swears there's a glimmer of hope in her voice.

"Yes," Ben submits. "It's more of the second one."

His mother nods, "Good. That's good."

Mal interrupts, "Excuse me, but how is that good?"

She watches as Belle turns to her husband, "Do you have an extra bottle lying around?"

Adam nods, "Yes." before he stands. "I will be but a minute."

Ben's mother looks back at him seriously, "Honey. I need to listen closely. Okay?"

"Okay," Ben repeats.

"For now on, an hour before you go to sleep I want you to expose yourself to as little light as possible. That means no TV, no phone, and no computer. Instead, I'd like you to spend that time just relaxing and reading something."

He stares at her for a second, "I fail to see how that's supposed to help me."

"The studies say it helps, and at the very least it should help wind you down." Ben opens his mouth to question, but then his father sits back down and he watches at his mother takes the bottle from him. She shows the pills to Ben, "This is melatonin. It's used to help regulate sleep-wake cycles. An hour before you go to sleep, I need you to take two of these." She hands the bottle to him, and he examines the label. "It should make you tired enough to sleep."

Ben nods, "Okay."

Mal observes each of them with her mouth slightly agape, before she complains, "Am I not going to get an explanation here?"

Ben turns to her, "They're helping me with my sleep issue. What's there to explain?"

"How about how she just so happened to have the information and everything all set and ready." She gestures to the bottle, "Or how about why when you tell her you've gone days without sleeping that the first thing she does is throw pills at you."

"She's just trying to help," he reasons, but then he sees Mal's crossed arms. "They're my parents. They know what's best for me."

Mal huffs, "Funny. You didn't seem to hold that same philosophy when it came to me and my mother."

"That's different," he insists.

"How?" Mal uncrosses her arms. "Just tell me. How?"

He looks into her eyes and takes a calming breath, before he slowly answers, "Because they haven't been wrong yet."

When Mal merely frowns quietly in response Belle comments, "I realize this is all very new and confusing for you." and Mal looks at her. "But sooner or later this will all start to make sense." Belle glances down for a moment, "I already had the research prepared, because Adam has had his own trouble with sleep in the past. If the supplement works for Adam, then there's no reason why it shouldn't work for Ben."

Mal recognizes the sincerity in her eyes. _It's the same sincerity Ben's always had_. "I understand."

"Good," Belle nods, and when she sees her son's expression she reaches for his hand. "Just remember what I said and follow what I recommended, and it will all be okay."

"Yes," Ben softly replies, before he takes his hand from hers and picks up his fork. He can't help but stay silent and think, even though he can feel them all staring at him. He lied. He told them it had only been a couple days, simply because that was the only choice he'd been given; however, he wonders what they would have recommended had he said he's been staying up for more than just a couple days at a time. Would they have had him seek professional help? No. Of course, not. He's stupid for even thinking such things. _Perhaps telling them what they wanted to hear really was for the best_.

* * *

"Aren't you only supposed to take one of those?" Doug questions.

"My parents told me to take two," Ben informs after swallowing them, "so that's what I'm doing."

Doug watches him stare at the open bottle for a minute, "What is it?"

Ben looks up suddenly, as if he had not remembered Doug to have been there, "Oh. Nothing." before he eyes the bottle again. "I'm just wondering if I should take another."

"Why?"

Ben hears the angry confusion in his voice, "I wasn't completely honest with my parents. I was given two options to explain how my sleep has been, and full-blown insomnia was not one of the options." He shakes his head, "If I was told to take two, then maybe I should really be taking three."

"You want to know what I think?" Doug questions, and Ben looks up at him. "I think that if your parents told you to take two, then you should take two." He glances at the small bottle, "It's your first time taking the stuff. You shouldn't be starting out at such a high dose."

"What if I try it and it doesn't work?" Ben worries.

Doug gives him a look, "Then adjust it from there— or better yet, tell your parents the truth and see what they say."

Ben shakes his head, "No. I don't want to worry them."

"Ben," Doug starts.

"No," he interrupts with a glare. "They can't find out. If push comes to shove, then I'll just take care of the situation myself."

Doug lets out an uneasy breath, "All of this medication can't be good for you."

"Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury to think about that." A silence grows between the two of them, and Ben looks away. "I heal well. There shouldn't be any issues."

"With all of this stuff you're taking," Doug slowly responds. "I know I can't tell you to stop taking it, but I'd like you to at least be careful."

Ben peers back up at him, "I am careful."

"Really?" Doug questions. "Because I don't think you are." He sees Ben open his mouth to speak, but he doesn't let him, "Just don't take any more than is necessary. Start out small, find what works, but don't exceed beyond that. You may heal well, whatever that means, but that doesn't make you indestructible. I've looked this stuff up. If you take too much of it, it can give you stomach ulcers and cause internal bleeding."

It takes a minute for Ben to respond, "I know."

Doug almost laughs, "Well, so long as you know, I guess." before he looks down and shakes his head. "Never mind. Just at least try to sleep."

* * *

\- The stomach ulcers and internal bleeding are references to the ibuprofen and liquid cold/flu medicine, not the melatonin, for those of you who may have been confused by that statement.


	50. Reassurance

**Reassurance**

 **(Day 30: Monday Morning)**

"Ah! King Benjamin. Nice for you to join us."

Ben attempts to smile, "It is."

After a moment of quiet the teacher comments, "What? You're not going to explain yourself?"

He glances between the prying eyes of the classroom to brown haired man at the front of the class, "I wasn't feeling well last night, so I took some medicine. I only just woke up now, but that's no excuse."

"You were in the nurse's office last Friday with a fever, weren't you?"

Ben nods, "Yes. That's correct."

It takes a minute for him to reply, hands in his pocket, "You know, if you're still sick, then you really should be back at your dorm resting."

Ben shakes his head, "I can't let my classwork pile up." before he gives a nod. "I'm fine. Really. I can attend."

"Well, if you're really feeling better," the teacher evenly responds, "then take a seat."

Ben finds Doug sitting towards the front near the door, and Ben goes over to sit at the table. He states, "I didn't think you'd make it."

"No thanks to you," Ben irritably retorts. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I was going to," Doug begins. "But then I got this inexplicable fear that you would attack me if I did."

"I wouldn't do that."

"You may say that," Doug comments as he finishes up the vocab, "but that doesn't change the fact that it felt like I would be waking up a sleeping bear."

"You've never had a problem with it before," Ben reminds him.

Doug nearly laughs, "Maybe, but that was back when you were getting two hours of rigorous exercise every day and not lying awake until three A.M."

"It's not like I wanted to stay up that long."

"And yet," he merely replies, "somehow you did."

* * *

"So, what are you going to do? Up the dosage?"

Ben sits on his bed as he examines the bottle of melatonin, "All these things did was keep me asleep. It still took forever for me to actually fall asleep."

"Soo, you're not upping the dosage, then?" Doug questions.

It takes a moment for Ben to answer, "No." before he stands from his bed. "No. I think I have a better idea."

Doug watches as Ben slides the blue bin out and places it on his bed, "What? You're going to mix medicines now?"

Ben gives him a look, "It's not like it's something I've never done before." before he takes out the liquid nighttime cold and flu medicine. "This stuff always makes me drowsy. So, if this can get me asleep and the melatonin can keep me asleep, then that should be the end to all this nonsense."

"You're not serious," Doug worries.

"I'm very serious," Ben responds, before he sets the medicine on the table and puts the bin back under the bed.

"You're only supposed to take that stuff when you're sick."

Ben looks at him, "When are you going to get it? My survival depends on me not caring what the labels say." He glances down for a moment, "And, apparently, according to my mother, so does the survival of others." before he shakes his head. "She actually thinks that if I can't manage my sleep and keep my emotional control stabilized, then I may end up hurting someone I care about."

"Wait," Doug holds out a hand. "So, your own mom is saying that she's afraid you could end up hurting someone."

Ben nods, "And if even she doubts me…" He looks up at him, "You know now why I need to take that medicine. It's not up for debate."

It takes a minute for Doug to respond, "I still think it's a bad idea."

Ben frowns, "Tell me that the risk of me possibly harming others outweighs the possibility of me harming myself."

Doug slowly responds, "That's not a fair statement."

"I think it's a very fair statement," Ben evenly replies. "My mother has always been really smart and intuitive. If she fears the possibility of something happening, then I cannot help but feel the need to fear it as well."

He shakes his head, "I can't tell you to do this."

"Let me put it this way," Ben begins. "If I were not to take this, if I were to continue sleeping unwell and have my emotional control further diminish, and then one day I become unhinged. If I were to become mad at you— If I were to accidently push you towards a flight of stairs— If you were to die, then would you come back to this moment and still tell me not to take this?" Doug opens his mouth but fails to speak. "I'm doing this."

Doug watches as Ben takes the two melatonin followed up by the thirty milliliters of cold medicine, "You would never hurt me."

Ben a quiet for a moment, "You don't know that… and neither do I." before he looks at him. "As my mother so eloquently put it, accidents will happen. I just need to make sure I make as few as possible."

"You shouldn't have to take that stuff just because your mom is afraid that without proper sleep you could hurt someone."

"It's not just her," Ben nearly yells, before he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. "I'm afraid too, and it's not just because she's afraid."

"Ben." Doug tries to reassure, "You would never hurt anyone. I know you wouldn't."

Ben half laughs, "Really?" before he sadly looks back up at him. "Because I already have." He sees Doug about to speak, "And it doesn't matter who it was or how it happened, because it happened… and nothing is going to change that. I can't do anything about it." He points down twice, "But there's something I can do about this, and I'm doing it."

"So, you're doing this, why exactly? Because you feel helpless? Because you feel the need to have some amount of control over this thing?" Ben doesn't speak. "Doing this isn't going to solve anything."

"It won't solve everything," Ben agrees, "but if there's a chance that this can help even the least bit, then I've got to take it." He looks away, "And I won't take it every night. I know that I'm not invincible. I also know that there's an important stage of sleep that's skipped when you fall asleep unnaturally, which is why I will be attempting to sleep normally at least once each week. Probably around the weekend would be best." He looks back up and assures, "It will be okay. Everything is going to be fine." because he needs that same reassurance himself.

* * *

\- Now. I know what you may be thinking. When did he hurt someone? Was it that fight with Chad? But that happened before his sleeping problems started. Yes. I know. My mistake, but since I'm keeping it in the story let's just pretend it's not an author's mistake and that in all actuality that Ben just became so sleep deprived that he can't even separate one day from the next. Believe me. It happens.


	51. Negligence

**Negligence**

 **(Day 31: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"Ben," Fairy Godmother begins, her hands folded together on her desk. "I have asked you here to let you know that I got a visit from Nurse Sarah the other day."

"Oh," he glances down as he's hit with a great relief. When the teacher had gotten the call he had acted very serious about it, and the class oohing at the prospect of him being asked to the office didn't help. He had thought that it must have been something terrible, even though he had no idea of what that could have quite been. However, now that he thinks about it, this could be a potentially horrible situation as well. "Um. What did she tell you?"

"Well," Fairy Godmother frowns. "She came to me saying that she'd like to sue your parents for negligence."

Ben's mouth gapes open in shock, before he tries to cover it with a smile and partly laughs, "Ah. What did you tell her?"

"I told her that your parents have been nothing but supportive of the education system and that suing a royal would be arbitrary." Ben nods, and it takes a minute for the headmistress to continue. "Ben… I need to ask you. How is your home life? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Ben looks down. "It's fine."

"This is a safe space. You can tell me anything here."

Ben shakes his head, "There's nothing to tell. Everything is fine."

The headmistress smiles in concern, "You don't seem very sure about that."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "Sometimes it's weird, like things will feel unsettling for some reason. But really, everything is fine. We're almost as perfect as we portray ourselves to be."

Fairy Godmother nods, "Okay. But according to the nurse, you had an incredibly high fever and your parents refused to have you taken to the hospital."

Ben laughs with unease, "I wouldn't have been sent to the hospital. I would have been sent to the ER."

"And you do know what the ER is?" she asks.

"It's the Emergency Room," Ben answers in slight frustration.

"Which is reserved for emergencies." She looks over Ben carefully, "If you were in enough of a critical state to be sent to the emergency room, then it was very serious."

Ben is quiet for a second, as he stares at her blankly, "You're not telling me anything I don't already know."

She looks at him seriously, "Did you know that under normal circumstances you would probably be in Child Protective Service's custody right now, until either the charges are seen as false or your parents are deemed fit to have custody of you?"

Ben shuts his eyes and shakes his head, "I'm king of the throne. That couldn't happen."

"Which is why I said 'under normal circumstances'," the fairy godmother reminds him, "but that doesn't make what's happened any less serious." She pauses. "I know that as a royal, you may feel as though there's no way out, but there's always a solution."

Ben shakes his head, "No. I'm fine." before he stares into her eyes. "My parents were just looking out for me. I didn't want to go to the emergency room any more than they wanted to take me there."

The headmistress seems put aback by the information, "Would you like to explain why."

Ben is quiet for a long minute, "It's… I have this medical thing." and he watches as the fairy godmother appears to listen intently. "Only my family's doctor, my parents, and I know how to treat me when I'm unwell. Going to the ER would have done more harm than good."

"A medical thing?" Fairy Godmother asks. "What kind of medical thing?"

"The kind I'm not supposed to talk about," Ben angrily answers, before he attempts a long, calming breath. "It's nothing. I'm fine. Really."

"It doesn't sound like nothing," the headmistress debates, "and something this serious really should be listed in your school file."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "It can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know why," he replies in frustration. "It— it just can't."

Fairy Godmother watches as Ben settles himself down again, "Who told you it can't?" Ben doesn't answer. "Was it your parents?" He looks up at her. "It was them."

Ben eyes the wall behind her, "What I have… it doesn't even have a name. You wouldn't be able to put it in my file, even if I were to tell you."

"But if you end up in the nurse's office again—"

"That won't happen," Ben interrupts. "I'm not supposed to go to the nursing offices. I just ended up there last week, because I was being an idiot and forgot to take my medicine. When my fever got too high I passed out, and then I was taken there against my will."

"So, you take medication?" the headmistress inquires.

"Nothing prescribed," Ben answers, "but it is a requirement my doctor has set." The fairy godmother nods. "So. Now that you know my parents aren't being neglectful, may I please leave?"

"In a minute," she evenly replies. "I'd actually like to review what you said earlier about things being unsettling at home."

"Unsettling," Ben repeats.

"Yes. I'd like to know how it's unsettling."

Ben shrugs, "I'm not sure. It just feels that way sometimes." but the fairy godmother doesn't respond. "It's like there's these secrets that are being kept from me… or conversations that I'm simply not a part of."

Fairy Godmother partly smiles, "Anything else."

It takes a moment for Ben to note, "I think they fight sometimes." and he frowns as he looks down. "There are times at dinner where it's quieter— or even times where my mom will sit farther away from him." He looks up at her and sees her concern, "But every couple fights. It doesn't mean anything."

The headmistress hesitates to question, "Ben… You said that you think your parents may have fought. Have you ever gotten into a fight with them, with your father perhaps?"

"I mean, yeah. Of course," Ben frowns. "He doesn't like every decision I've made as king, so there have been some arguments."

"Do these arguments usually include shouting?"

Ben almost laughs, "Don't most?"

It takes a moment for Fairy Godmother to ask, "Does he do other things when you two get into these arguments?"

Ben remembers when his father had leaned on the small table and how when he pushed up on it the table had been tossed across the room. He remembers hearing the vase break and how the white lilacs and red tiger lilies had already scattered over the floor by the time his mom had come, but whatever expression his father had of which had held Ben's attention is not remembered. "No. He didn't."

"I see," Fairy Godmother slowly responds, and when Ben looks up at her she questions, "Does your father get angry often?"

"There are times when he feels unwell," Ben acknowledges, "but when he's like that he's not usually around us… or, at least, I won't be around him. Like, he won't attend dinner or I will be told to go elsewhere."

"So, your mother is around him when he's— how did you put it— unwell?"

"Sometimes." Ben nods, "Yes."

"And to your knowledge," she uneasily asks, "has he ever hurt your mother?"

"Hurt?" Ben questions, as he remembers back to when he was little and they had been swimming in the pool in the back yard. He must have seen it dozens— or even hundreds— of times before then, but that was the first time he had asked. He remembers how she had looked over her shoulder and used her hand to trace over the scars on her back, as if they were something she'd completely forgotten about. _It's nothing, honey. Just a little accident I had with your father back when he was the beast_.

"Ben?"

Ben frowns, "Sorry. I was just surprised that you would ask that, but no. No. He doesn't do that."

"To your knowledge," Fairy Godmother comments.

"No," Ben insists. "There's no knowledge to it. He loves her. He would never do anything to her."

The headmistress carefully responds, "I know you've taken the classes, even the ones that weren't required. Surely you know it isn't always so simple… People can hurt the ones they love with no ill intent involved at all."

He shakes his head, "No. It's not like that." before he pauses, flustered. "No. I told you that I thought they were fighting, and then you twisted my words and turned it into something criminal." He looks at her, "My family is as nice, perfect, and normal as any other can be, regardless of whatever mishaps we have had along the way. We pull through, and we protect each other. We survive." The fairy godmother remains quiet. "The way my family operates… it's very supportive and stable, and in the end it doesn't matter if I have this medical condition or if my father has an occasional emotional sensitivity. Because, in the end we have each other, and that's all that matters."

She frowns, "No family is perfect, Ben."

He pierces his eyes at her, "Which is why I said 'as any can be'." before he glances at the clock. "Can I leave now?" She quietly nods, and then he paces to the door.

* * *

-I almost feel like she should tell him to wait and not go so soon, but I got to the end of the page and I hate leaving only one or two paragraphs or sentences onto the next. Sadly, one chapter is all you're getting for tonight. Let me know what you thought.


	52. Then so Shall it Be

**Then so Shall it Be**

 **(Day 33: Thursday Night)**

Carlos sits at a square table in the nearly deserted library, and he stares at his biology textbook as he rests his head in his right hand and runs his left thumb up and down the pencil he holds. He imagines it again: how Jay had gripped his arm hard as he'd been pushed against the door, the way it felt when his burns would be scraped or pressed, and he even imagines some things Jay hasn't even done yet. _He would never do it_. Carlos shakes his head at how aggravatingly careful Jay has been with him since he found out. _It doesn't matter_. He shuts his eyes hard. _It doesn't matter_.

However, it does matter. As Jay has pointed out several times, they're just friends, and anything they do beyond that is only meant to satisfy any physical urges or needs which may present themselves; however, Carlos's needs have not been satisfied. A part of him wishes he'd never figured it out, because prior to the realization of how much more intense and gratifying the pain made things he had been content with how it was. _Of course, Jay wasn't nearly as careful then as he is now_. He lets out an annoyed breath and grumbles at the textbook.

"Having some trouble?"

Carlos looks up and sees Aziz, "Oh. Hey."

"Hey," Aziz smiles before he sits down across from him, looking over the textbook. "I took that class last year. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Carlos almost laughs as he glances down at his homework, "Ah, no. I wasn't actually working. I mean, I intended to, but then I got distracted."

He rests his arms on the table, "And what kind of distraction would that be?"

Carlos frowns, "I don't exactly know how to say it without it being, like, weird."

"Try me."

It takes a minute for him to inform, "So… back on the Isle I was in a relationship with someone— nothing serious— and now, here, I'm also sort of in a relationship."

Aziz looks at him with a hint of confusion, "Are you wondering if seeing this new person would be considered cheating?"

He laughs, "Ah, no. Um… it's just that—" He runs a hand over his hair, "God. Why does this have to be so hard?"

Aziz smiles, "Probably best not to question it." before he nods. "You were saying?"

"Right," Carlos frowns. "Well… this relationship I'm in, it's more of a benefits only kind of thing." He ignores Aziz's increased interest. "The thing is, though… I'm not exactly getting a lot out of it anymore. I mean, I don't want to stop it, but at the same time—" He looks up at him, "I just want more."

Aziz nods, "Well, as with any type of relationship, communication is key. Have you told this person how you feel?"

He's quiet for a moment, "We had a talk, but this person couldn't seem to grasp the idea of doing what I wanted to do… but I still wanted them, so I said it wasn't a big deal."

"Hmm. I'm going to guess that was a lie."

"It wasn't at the time," Carlos insists. "I really thought that maybe it wouldn't matter, because it hadn't really mattered before, but it's like now that I've found this new type of… interaction, it's like this very annoying itch that I can't seem to scratch."

"You know, this is just a thought," Aziz gestures, "but maybe you should just tell them that." Carlos gives him a look, so he explains, "This relationship you have is supposed to benefit you both. It's not fair if you're fulfilling this person's needs, when they're not really willing to do the same for you."

Carlos looks down for a moment, "What I'd be asking them to do… it's not the most normal thing."

Aziz shrugs, "So, what? I'm sure everyone has a little of something they're interested in that's not deemed 'normal'." He places finger quotes around the word, and then laughs, "Personally. If I were to ever be in a relationship, I think I'd like to try some roleplaying."

"What?" Carlos asks. "You mean like the person being dressed in a schoolgirl outfit and you being seduced by them?"

"Probably not that one," he slowly answers, "but you get the idea."

Carlos nods, "Yeah… that's a little more normal than my thing."

"What is your thing, exactly," Aziz asks, "if you don't mind me asking?"

He comments in unsureness, "I would just like it to be more… rough, I guess."

Aziz grins, "That's it?"

"Well… yeah." He watches him laugh. "What is it?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing. It's just with how un-normal you said it was and with how ashamed you seemed to be of it, I guess I just thought it would be something like golden showers or something."

"What's golden showers?"

Aziz's expression evens out, "Oh. Well… it's, um, basically urination in the form of a sexual act, like getting peed on and stuff."

Carlos's eyes widen, "That's a thing?"

Aziz shrugs it off, "Everything is a thing… You just need to find someone who can handle that thing." He smiles at him, "In comparison to something like that, I really don't think you will have a problem."

Carlos huffs, "You'd be surprised."

"Just talk to them," Aziz insists. "It can do nothing but help."

"And that works?" Carlos questions. "The whole talking thing, it works?"

"If you're asking for me to speak from experience, then I really can't. I've never been in a relationship before." He glances down, "I've always been very dedicated to my education." before he looks back up at him. "But the communications class I'm taking always explains how important talking with someone over things is. If you continue on as you are, then there's just going to continue to be this misunderstanding where they may think everything is fine when it may not be at all."

Carlos shakes his head, "I don't know. I feel like maybe I'd be asking for too much."

"It's up to you," Aziz evenly responds, "but I highly recommend for you to talk it out."

Carlos smiles, "So, you've really never been with anyone before."

"I'm only fifteen," Aziz calmly defends. "… and like I said, I have my education to think of." He shrugs and attempts to smile, "How important are relationships anyway?"

"Well," Carlos starts, "it kind of sounds like you think they're kind of important."

Aziz stares down at the glossy wood for a moment, "The lusting after another… it's selfish." and when he looks back up Carlos seems a bit shocked. "There are more important things, and those are the things that are going to fulfil my life… not some relationship."

Carlos shakes his head, "You're not going to go through your life without ever being with someone."

"No," he frowns, "but when it comes to marriage the relationship will be based purely on political ties… and hopefully friendship."

"Wait," Carlos breathes in disbelief. "Who said anything about marriage?"

"I am to be married by the age of twenty-one in order to ascend the throne," Aziz asserts, before he breaks eye contact with him. "And if I don't choose my own bride by then, whether she be peasant or royal, then one who is royal shall be appointed to me."

He furrows his eyebrows as he fails to laugh, "That can't be a thing."

"It's called an arranged marriage," Aziz informs. "It's definitely a thing."

"Then you start dating early," Carlos attempts to solve. "If you date enough people, then by the time you need to be married surely you would have found someone."

It takes a moment for him to comment, "Somehow I doubt that."

"But you can't just give up and accept your fate," Carlos insists. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve a life worth living."

"So does my kingdom," Aziz retorts, "and for that to happen they need a king."

Carlos is quiet for a minute, "There must be someone else."

"Someone else to carry the burden I currently carry?" he questions. "What makes me so special?" Carlos stays silent, and after a long minute Aziz answers, "There is my sister, but so long as there is a male heir she will not be allowed to take the throne."

Carlos meets his eyes, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's just a sacrifice I'm going to have to make." He eyes the table, "It's going to be good for me, my family, my people, and definitely in the eyes of God." before he smiles at him. "He does not give anyone any more than they can handle. Whatever trials I face can only make me stronger, and if this is the path He wants me take, then so shall it be."

* * *

\- Yeah. Um. It's probably not going to be a huge thing in this first fic, but Aziz's family is pretty traditional and religious... in case it wasn't obvious enough already.


	53. Dragon Mal

\- Remember the Mal you had all the way back in chapter 3? Well, you're getting her again. Let me know which Mal you like better: normal Mal or Dragon Mal... not that they always coexist separately or that your opinion will change the story at all. I'd just like to know. Personally, I really like Dragon Mal.

* * *

 **Dragon Mal**

 **(Day 35: Saturday Night)**

"What the hell?" Mal yells, as she runs her fingers under the running water.

Evie rushes to the doorway, "What is it?"

Mal huffs in disbelief, "The water isn't hot."

"It's not?" Evie questions as she walks over and kneels down to test the water's temperature herself. "Well… it's not scalding hot, but it's still kind of warm."

"Kind of warm," Mal laughs. "Kind of warm isn't going to cut it."

"Well. Maybe if you don't have the cold water on—"

"I don't have the cold water on," Mal interrupts with fury, before she shakes her head and shuts the facet off entirely. "I swear. Whoever did this—"

"Mal," Evie rushes after her. "It's not like whoever did this did it on purpose."

"No," Mal evenly responds, "but they're still going to pay for it."

"With what?" Evie half-laughs. "Their life?"

"Depends on how well they can handle me," Mal surmises as she opens the door to the hallway, but only one girl is seen. "Hey. Lonnie."

Evie watches Mal's eyes transfix on her like some kind of prey, and she whispers, "Oh, no." to herself before going after her.

"Hey," Lonnie smiles. "How's your night going?"

"It would be going better if you can tell me who took my hot water."

"What?" Lonnie's smile falters in confusion.

"My hot water," Mal steps forward. "Do you know where it went?"

"Um," Lonnie tenses as she leans back towards the wall.

Evie tries to pull back Mal's shoulder so that she'd face her, but she isn't strong enough, "Come on, M. She doesn't know anything."

"No. I think she does," Mal suspects before glowing her eyes at her. "Who took all of my hot water? Tell me."

"Audrey."

"Tell me where I can find her."

"In the cafeteria," Lonnie answers.

Mal's eyes return to normal and she strides down the hallway, while Evie attempts to smile at Lonnie, "I am so sorry." before running after her. "What are you going to do to her?"

"Well," Mal walks down the stairs, "she took my heat source, so I think it's only fair that I take it back from her."

"Are you even hearing yourself?" Evie maddens. "Once water is used it's used." She tries to step out in front of her, but Mal is too fast for her, "You're not going to get it back."

"Then I guess I'm just going to have to take it from her directly."

Evie glances around, noticing the sudden increase in people, before she whispers behind Mal, "You're not thinking straight. Just come back upstairs with me. Please!"

"No." Mal continues forward, "I'm getting back what she stole from me." before they find themselves walking through the open cafeteria doors. Evie looks around the large room and notices several stations of what appears to be people getting manicures and their nails painted, and even some of the tourney players seem to be participating; however, she looks away from the scene when she hears Audrey.

Mal ignores her smile, "You're the one that took the hot water."

"Excuse me?" Audrey sasses.

Mal pushes her up against the wall, "You took my hot water."

"Get off of me," she squirms. "You're freezing."

"And you're warm," Mal counters as she lifts up Audrey's quarter sleeves and wraps her hands over her skin.

"Mal," Evie intervenes. "Don't do this."

She glares at her, "She took my heat source."

"I realize that," Evie anxiously replies, "but just think about this for a second. Do you really want to do this?"

She smirks, "Yes." as Audrey continues to try to push Mal's arms to get her off.

"Of course you do," Evie breathes.

When Mal glows her eyes Audrey fearfully asks, "What did I ever do to you?"

"You took my hot water."

"Okay. You know, look," Audrey laughs. "I'm sorry. Okay. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Mal eyes her over. "But you will be."

"Mal," the fairy godmother makes herself known. "This is complete and utterly unacceptable behavior."

When Mal looks over her shoulder and spots the headmistress her eyes glow brighter, "Silence!" She returns her sight to the girl, who still struggles to get free. "Don't fight it." She stops, and her arms slowly return to their resting position. "Stay still."

"Mal," Evie worries. "Please, don't do this." Mal inches closer to Audrey. "You don't need her. You have me." She pulls on her shoulder, "So, let's just get you back to our room, and we can get you all nice and warm. Okay?" She doesn't respond, only moving her hands to another section of the girl's arms as she moves in an inch more.

"Mal!"

Mal looks to her right and lets go of Audrey at the sight of the hotter heat signature, "Ben?" and as she moves towards him her eyes return to normal.

Evie uneasily smiles, "Nice timing." as she walks over to the two of them.

Mal hugs him, resting her head on his chest, "You're so warm."

He holds onto her shoulders and moves her away from him, "Mal. Why were you attacking Audrey? What's going on here?" Instead of answering, Mal merely smiles as she takes his hands from her shoulders and walks towards him, moving into that embrace again. Ben looks at Evie in question; however, Evie does nothing more than watch Mal, and not a moment later does he feel the side of his turtleneck lift and the cold hand hold his hip. Immediately, his eyes widen as he grabs her arm, "Really?" before he grabs the other and holds them together in front of her. "You're doing that now? Here?" He shakes his head, "What's wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with her," Evie defends, equally as loud, and then Ben looks at her. "She's just part dragon. She can't generate her own body heat."

He looks down at Mal, "Is that true?"

She grins, "Who needs body heat when I have you?" but she frowns and her eyebrows furrow when she's unable to break free. "You're strong."

"Oh! Sorry," Ben lets go and watches as she rubs her arms. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Mal smiles again, "I'm fine." before she moves in closer and places a hand to his face.

"Okay. Look." He takes the hand away, "I understand that I'm your boyfriend and everything, but please don't use me like that." He watches her remain quiet as he comes up with a solution, "Does the sun work? Do you get heat from that?"

"Sometimes. Some."

Evie interrupts, "How's that going to help her. It's nighttime."

"I have an idea," he reassures, before he guides Mal over to Evie. "Can you get her back to your dorm? I'll be there shortly."

"Yeah," Evie smiles, before she places a hand on Mal's back and walks her out. "Come on. It's time for the little dragon to return to the nest."

* * *

When they return to the dorm Evie guides Mal to her bed and sits her down, but then Mal tugs on Evie and she sits down as well. Evie watches as Mal's hands touch her shoulders and press forward, forcing her to lie on her back, "What are you doing?"

Mal smiles, before she leans in and kisses her, "Your lips are soft."

Evie stops Mal from moving in again, "We can't do this right now. Ben could be here any minute."

She smiles, "You're so cute when you're all serious." before she kisses her again.

Evie turns her head away, "No. I'm mad at you."

Mal laughs, "No you aren't," before she moves onto her neck instead.

"Would you stop that?" Evie frustrates as she pushes Mal up, and they sit upright again. "I am mad. You almost kissed her. If Ben hadn't showed up—"

Mal places a finger to Evie's lips, "Shh." before she moves her hand to her cheek. "Do we really have to talk about this right now?"

"Yes," Evie strongly answers, "because you probably won't even remember it later."

When she sees Evie begin to tear up, Mal moves her hand down and holds Evie's, "Trust me. It was nothing personal. It's just that she stole heat from me, so I had to steal it back from her." She uses her other hand to run the fingers through her hair, "That's all there was to it."

Evie shakes her head, "No. You didn't have to do it." before a tear falls into her lap and she looks back up at her. "You could have just stayed. You could have just stayed and had me." She watches as Mal opens her mouth, but before any words come out her attention is diverted to the opening door.

"I hope you have a spare outlet," Ben says, before he comes in, shuts the door, and finally looks up at the two of them. He frowns and takes a few steps forward, as he sees Evie running a couple fingers under her eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Evie answers. "I just should know better than try to talk to her when she's like this by now." She feels Mal continuing to touch her hair, and then unclasps the metal chain from her wrist.

"Your hair is shiny."

"Yeah. My hair is shiny." Evie frowns, "You know what else is shiny?" before hangs the bracelet in front of Mal. "This." She places it in her hand, "How about you admire it for a minute instead." She takes a deep breath as she stands from the bed, before she tiredly shuffles towards Ben, "Sorry." She looks down at the large object he holds. "What's that?"

Ben tries to smile, "It's a heat lamp."

She eyes it carefully, "It looks like a regular lamp."

"Yes," he agrees. "It does, but hopefully it will help."

Evie nods, "Follow me." before she walks to the other side of the bed. "There's an outlet here." She watches him plug it in and adjust it so that it hits Mal's bed perfectly.

After he's finished, Ben notices Mal continue to admire the glass beads hanging from the bracelet, "It is just me or does she seem a little different?"

Evie almost smiles, "You've never seen Mal like this before, have you?"

Ben shakes his head, "No. I'm not sure I have."

"Well, then," Evie steps between the two of them, before she gestures to her. "Let me introduce you to Dragon Mal. This delightful personally tends to emerge either when she's cold, she's in danger, or someone or something she cares about is threatened. Normally she's just very affectionate, but she runs on instinct and so doesn't really think a lot."

"Is that why she attacked Audrey?"

Evie fully turns to him, "So long as you keep hot and shiny things nearby, she isn't normally an issue." She glances towards the floor, "Let's just be grateful you showed up when you did." before she turns back to Mal and folds her arms. "I guess I just wasn't important enough to her." Mal looks up at her but doesn't speak. "Are you done with the bracelet?"

She frowns, "Yeah. I am."

Evie walks back around the bed to get it back from her, and after she puts it back on she nods up, "What do you think of the nice heat lamp Ben got you?"

Mal turns around and kneels up, before she places her hands on the black lamp, "It's so warm." She moves nearer to it and smiles, "I love you."

Ben smiles, "I love you too."

Evie gives him a look, "She was talking to the lamp."

He frowns, "Oh."

Evie partly smiles, "Don't worry. She loves all of her heat sources."

"All of them?" Ben questions in insecure unsureness.

Mal moves to wrap her arms around him, "Thank you, deer." before she kisses him.

Ben's smile returns, "Ahh. You're welcome."


	54. Owning Up to Your Faults

\- **Warning** : the flashbacks in this chapter may be just a tad more descriptive than this site would probably appreciate. Continue at your own discretion.

* * *

 **Owning Up to Your Faults**

 **(Day 35: Saturday Night)**

When Evie hears the knock at the door she stands from her bed and walks over to open it, but she's surprised by who is there, "Fairy Godmother."

She offers an even look, "Evie."

"What are you doing here?"

"Now, Evie," Fairy Godmother tilts her head and raises her eyebrows in question. "I think you know exactly why I'm here. I need to talk to Mal."

"Well, sorry," Evie nods once, "but you can't."

"Evie," the headmistress starts. "You can't protect her over something like this."

Evie widens her eyes and uneasily smiles, "She's asleep."

"She's asleep?" Fairy Godmother questions.

"Yes," Evie confirms before shaking her head. "Ben stole her a very nice heat lamp from the science department, so now she's resting all warm and cozy like."

"Maybe she is," the headmistress accepts. "However, that does not change what happened. I need to speak with her."

Evie looks back into the room and watches as Mal turns over in her sleep, before she returns her attention to the headmistress, "Do you want me to be honest about something?"

Fairy Godmother nods, "That is the principle I am trying to teach. Yes."

Evie carefully steps out into the hallway and closes the door behind her, and she glances at the ground for a moment before informing, "You can't talk to Mal right now, because she's not in her right mind. If you talk to her, then she will only barely make any sense. Perhaps even less so now that she's started to sleep."

"I don't understand," she responds in concern. "Are you telling me that Mal isn't in her right mind because she's asleep, or are you trying to be honest in that she was on something at the time of the incident?"

Evie laughs, "Mal doesn't do drugs. She doesn't have to. Whenever she becomes low on heat she might as well have taken ecstasy with alcohol." Fairy Godmother doesn't speak. "What I'm saying is that Mal isn't in her right mind right now, and therefore it would be unfair to interrogate her and inflict whatever punishment you have planned upon her."

The headmistress is quiet for a second, "I don't inflict punishment. I discipline students for bad behavior. It's my job, and there is a difference."

Evie tenses a smile, "Somehow, right now I fail to see that difference."

Fairy Godmother calmly comments, "I know that you two are friends and that you must have a strong bond." Evie snickers. "However, I am going to need to speak with Mal. If it's not going to be tonight, then it's just going to have to be in the morning. I'd like you to let her know that I'd like to see her in my office as soon as possible."

"I could do that… or I could be loyal and help her the same way that she helped me."

Fairy Godmother purses her lips and strains a smile, "You may think that you're helping each other, but if you really are friends, then you wouldn't be letting each other commit crimes and jeopardize their health."

Evie swallows, "I did try to help her." before she deeply frowns. "She didn't want me."

The headmistress looks over her carefully, "As her friend, it is your job to keep offering her help, even when she doesn't want it or refuses it again and again." It's silent for a moment. "You can either help your friend by having her own up to her mistakes, or I can call her over the intercom and embarrass her. I don't want to, but I will if I'm left with no other options."

"I can tell her," Evie breathes, before she looks at her seriously. "But there's still a fatal flaw in this plan of yours." She pauses. "The Mal you saw tonight is not the same one who will come to you in the morning… There's a good possibility that she won't even remember half of the stuff that went down tonight."

Fairy Godmother nods, "You know her best, and that may be so; however, it's my job to address the situation." She smiles, "Have a nice night, Evie. Make sure Mal comes to see me before noon tomorrow."

* * *

"Evie said you wanted to see me," Mal unsurely says after she's invited into the office.

"Yes," the headmistress nods. "Have a seat."

Mal carefully walks over and sits in the wooden chair. She recalls the morning and remembers how Evie hardly spoke to her, looking at her in an unsureness she's never expressed towards her before. _She said I had to come here, but she wouldn't say why._ "Why am I here?"

Fairy Godmother folds her hands on the desk, "What do you remember from last night?"

"Um," Mal lets out after a moment when she fails to recall anything. "The hot water wasn't hot enough. I talked to Lonnie." She looks up and to the left as she tries to remember, "There was Audrey. I think I talked to Audrey… and then Ben showed up. He was warm. And then Evie took me back upstairs. Ben gave me a heat lamp, and then I kissed him goodnight."

The headmistress takes a composing breath, "You didn't talk to Audrey."

"What are you talking about?" Mal smiles in disbelief. "I remember—"

"You attacked her," Fairy Godmother finishes, and then Mal frowns with widened eyes. "There's no other way to say it, and it's not easy for me to do so, but yes." She looks her in the eyes, "You did attack her."

Mal takes an unsteady breath and breaks herself from the shock, "Ahh. So, uh-um, what's my punishment?"

"Even though you don't remember the incident, I will still have to impose the minimum consequence of a week of in-school-suspension," she answers. "And if Audrey decides to report it, then I will have no choice but to file the complaint to the court."

"The court?" Mal questions.

"Yes, the court," the headmistress's words strengthen. "What you did could easily be interpreted as assault."

Mal feels her heart rate increase as water intrudes the back of her eyes, "That wasn't my intention."

"It doesn't matter what your intentions were," she negates. "What matters is your actions and how they affect others." Mal keeps her mouth shut and doesn't blink, staring at one spot and one spot only. "I know it might be hard for you, but I need you to put yourself in her shoes." Mal doesn't speak, so the fairy godmother continues. "You pushed her against the wall and held her arms so that she couldn't move." Mal remembers how Hook had restrained her. "And then you told her not to fight, to stay still." She remembers how he had raised her shirt and sports bra over her boobs. "Since she complied, I can only assume you used your hypnotism on her." She recalls how he had groped her and caressed his thumb over her nipple, before he moved his hand down to her pants. "If Ben hadn't showed up when he did I don't know what you would have done, but I can only imagine the worst." She hears the zipper. "Can you imagine what that must have felt like for her?"

Mal moves her eyes an inch to meet the headmistress's, "I understand." and then she feels the blood rush through the veins in her face. It feels as though they may explode, but she still doesn't cry.

"It is my recommendation that you apologize to her, but I fear that you may have gone too far. There's a good chance that what you did may stay with her." She watches the fairy godmother uneasily say, "It's not the kind of thing that's forgotten easily."

"I know."

The headmistress sets a piece of paper out in front of her, "I've already made the arrangements for your suspension. Your room number and instructor are listed." Mal watches herself take the sheet of paper, before she glances from it to the headmistress. "I know you see this as a punishment, but this is as much for your safety as it is for the rest of the school. The less time you spend around others will decrease the chances of any arguments or fights breaking out, therefore increasing safety and productivity. The room you will be staying in during the school day will have no other students. I'm sure you could use the time to think."

"Yes."

The fairy godmother nods, "I know it can't be easy for you to face up to your mistakes, especially one you may not entirely remember, but you have to know that I am proud of how well you're handling this. Owning up to your faults shows maturity." She looks her in the eyes, "That's a good thing."

Mal blinks, "Thank you."

The headmistress slightly smiles in response, "I'm glad we were able to have this little chat. You may leave now."

Mal stands from the chair and slowly makes her way to the door, watching herself turn the knob before entering the hallway. People are staring at her. She knows they are; she can feel them, and she doesn't blame them. She had done a horrible thing, and she knows what the end result would have been. She would have kissed her. She would have kissed her for heat, and that girl wouldn't have been able to stop her, the same way that she was unable to stop Hook. Mal feels the tears come on strong again, but as her breathing has slowed, she feels the tears stop and the blood that had flowed through her face calm. All that is left is the calm.

* * *

\- There are more chapters for this day, but I thought I should save something to post for tomorrow. You guys are pretty much caught up in what I have written so far.

\- I know that it was probably just a rhetorical question, but I'm going to answer it anyway. Thank you **Elizabeth Annette** for all of the comments you've been leaving. They're always nice to read. As for your (possibly rhetorical) question about if E and Mal's relationship would mean that Mal would be cheating on Ben... it really depends on the people involved in that kind of situation. In real life there are people who are at least somewhat okay with their bisexual partner dating them along with another (think Laneybot and Onision... although, I'm sure there are better examples). While there are other people who are either convinced that someone cannot love more than one person at a time or others who simply don't want to share the person they "own", because lets be real. That's how it works. When you get territorial over someone you're dating it's because you "own" each other. As far as the characters go now... I think we know where Evie stands. At first she seemed to have been a little jealous of Ben, but now I think it's more that she's made an exception for him but however still doesn't like it when Mal gets close to other girls. Now, Mal is interesting. Due to her Dragon nature, I don't think she would mind owning more than one person at a time. So long as she can keep them both happy and keep them from competing against each other, then I don't really see where the issue would lie... just that, you know, it's hard to let the people you love know that one is not of any more value than the other. (Think about it. Parents deal with that kind of problem all the time, making sure that each of their children knows they are loved equally). Now for Ben... he is definitely the wild card in this scenario. How he reacts when he inevitably finds out can either make or break this polyamorous relationship. The thing is that we really don't know how he's going to react. All we know is that Mal and Evie are kind of together and that Carlos and Jay are somewhat together and so maybe on the Isle of the Lost it's more acceptable for people to explore their sexuality or to just "mess around" in general, but that may not be the case where Ben was raised and has always lived. Maybe exploring anything sexual before a certain age is seen as gross or taboo or... just quote "bad" in general. Maybe poligamy isn't even a thing in Auradon or that some types of relationships are actually illegal... or maybe Ben will just make an exception for Mal, whether it be because he convinces himself that Evie is nothing other than just another heat source or that he realizes that Mal and Evie have been together this entire time and yet it has never caused Mal to make him feel any less valued, important, or cared about... We really don't know how he's going to react; all we can do is wait and find out later, although I'd really love to see your guys's predictions on how he may react. Feel free to post your guesses below.


	55. It Won't Happen Again

**It Won't Happen Again**

 **(Day 36: Sunday Morning)**

When Mal returns to the dorm she finds herself gathering her sketchpad and black pencil case into her dark purple bag. "How did it go?"

She turns around and sees Evie all put together, the makeup and clothes covering what lies beneath. "Did you see what happened last night?"

"Yes, Mal," she quietly stresses. "I was there." Mal glances down, observing the blue rug's color. She could just drown in it, the color reminding her of the dark waves of the Isle. Evie takes a step forward, "M. Are you okay?"

She looks back up at her, "What I did last night, have I ever done anything like that to anyone else before?"

"I don't think so," Evie slowly answers. "You had a lot of trust issues, remember?" Mal remembers overhearing Uma confront Hook. "You wouldn't go after anyone you didn't know."

 _And you believed her? She's a floozy, kissing guys and girls left and right. She'd do anything for heat. You know that_. She watched through the window and saw as he took a step forward to reassure her. _Trust me. She wanted it_. "What about you?" Mal sees Evie's frown, "Did I ever do that kind of thing to you?"

"No," Evie looks down for a second. "Not really… You may have seduced me a few times, but for the most part it was something I wanted."

 _You're a real damn good liar. You know that?_ "For the most part," Mal breathes. _What were you thinking, that if you claimed he forced you into that then he'd be booted and that you'd be able to rise up and take his place?_

"Mal." Evie reassures, "I'm fine with it. Really."

"It wasn't like that," Mal says, before she looks Evie in the eyes. "I've forced you to do things before, haven't I?"

"You've never used your hypnotism on me before," she assures.

 _I can't believe this. I thought we were friends_. "How could I do this to you?"

Evie scrunches her eyebrows in confusion, "Are you talking about last night?"

Mal remembers how Uma had laughed at her. _Are you kidding me? Get a grip of yourself. We were never friends_. She had reminded her of all of the embarrassing moments she had caused her. _Now. Tell me you won't discredit a group member again, and I'll let you get back to work_.

"Mal?"

"It won't happen again," Mal promises, before she grabs her bag, puts it on, and heads for the door.

"Hold on," Evie turns her around. "Where are you going?"

"I can't be here. I need to go."

"Go where?" Evie almost laughs at the absurdity.

"I don't know. I just need to go," Mal shuts her eyes, before she begins to turn.

Evie grabs her arm, "Just tell me where you're going." but Mal shakes her off and strides down the hall. She sees them staring— She sees them all staring— but it's to be expected. She's a monster. She knows that; however, apparently her friends are unable to see past the skin she wears, as she's stopped again by Jay near the front doors.

"Hold on. We need to talk."

"I don't think we do."

"Yes. We do," he insists as he holds her in place. "You're going to need someone to stand by you today."

"You have better things to do," Mal disputes.

"No. I don't." He looks into her eyes, "You're my family, and you need me. I'm not going to let you face this alone."

"You're right. We are like family," Mal accepts, "which is why I'm sorry I have to do this." She glows her eyes at him, "Let me go and leave me be." He lets go of her shoulders and she walks off, and even though he watches her leave the building, he's unable to do a thing.

* * *

\- And that's the backstory to how Mal left Uma's gang. It's a very nice tragedy, isn't it?... It probably would have felt more impactful had I posted it along with the previous chapter at the same time; however, if you want the full impact of the story, then all you have to do is binge read it again. No. Seriously. After this next chapter you will be completely caught up, and since my mind has been distracted by scenes that wouldn't even play out until two (possibly even 5) fanfictions from now I'm not sure how many chapters directly after this one I'll be able to write and how often I'd be able to post them. (If anyone wants a spoiler on what my mind as come up with for those potential future fics, then feel free to ask and I'll post it with a disclaimer. There's always the chance that I would have moved on by then and wouldn't make it that far, so if you want to know it now's your chance.) I'll try to get myself focused back on the present time in this fic, but it still may have to turn into a weekly update instead of a daily. Sorry. (By the way, can anyone tell me why "impactful" isn't a word on here? Same as "relatable"... funny. That's actually counted on here, but my Word document unfortunately doesn't count it as one... why can't spellcheck and grammar just make up its mind?).


	56. Drowning in Regret

**Drowning in Regret**

 **(Day 36: Sunday Midday)**

Mal sits down on the stone and leans her back against the pillar of the ruin, as she keeps the sketchpad upright against her legs. She draws the image she remembers, the single moment of Audrey she can recall from the night before. How she ever thought they were only talking, she doesn't know. She draws the frown, shades the disheveled hair, and colors in those fearful eyes. In the end what is left is the perfect image of a victim, someone scared and unable to move or comprehend what's happening. _She had no idea what she was up against_.

Mal stares at the portrait for what seems like minutes, before she sets it down and stares out at the water. It's such a lovely and yet destructive thing, really. How the water glistens and the sun casts it's light through the trees, and yet the water is deep, filled with sandpits and leg-tangling seaweed, the cliff overseeing it all. _The cliff_. It's relatively high up, and the journey there alone would be potentially dangerous. _Goodness knows I wouldn't be able to swim across_. However, she wonders what it would be like, what Ben must have seen and felt as he stood on top of the world, nothing below but the potential embrace of death. Would things look different from above? What kind of feeling would she receive as she crashed below? She just has to know, and so she stands and then she walks.

It's nothing but her and her thoughts as she makes her way through the greenery. She remembers Evie's silence, she recalls Audrey's fear, and thinking further into it she remembers Ben mimicking that fear when he came to see her. _When he found me and stopped me_. He didn't come to see her. That was just her way of filling in the blanks. No. She knows now that he had been there out of fear of what she would do, probably ashamed to even be seen with her.

She looks down at the water, as she reaches the edge. It looks more solid from above somehow, like if she were to jump that she'd be falling onto asphalt, and yet the water is so much clearer. She can see everything from up here: the sand and rocks, the weeds and tiny fish, and the crabs and clams. There's an entire world down there, and yet when she looks back up and stares off down the sunlit ravine, she doesn't feel any more enlightened. No. It may even be the opposite. As far as she's concerned, there's nothing here, nothing but her, this cliff, and the water beneath, and she takes a step as she stares down below. It looks a lot higher up from here than it did from below, and she can feel her heart beat faster at the prospect of falling from here. She takes a deep, unsettling breath, as she inches closer and shuts her eyes; however, when she feels herself slip from the edge a tight grasp pulls her back and turns her around. She opens her eyes and is met with his wide ones, "Ben."

He frowns, "What were you doing?"

Mal glances back over her shoulder, "I just wanted to see what it was like."

"You shouldn't have been up here. You almost fell. You could have drowned." She looks back at him but fails to speak, before she watches the realization fill his expression. "But that was your intention, wasn't it? You wanted to drown."

It takes a moment for Mal to respond, "How did you find me?"

He looks down and slowly releases his hand from her arm, as he notices he had still held that tight grip. "Evie called me. She was worried." He looks back up at her, "When we realized you had left your phone I started to think of where you'd have gone to, a place where you may have felt safe." He attempts to smile, but it's unable to override his concern. "You haven't been here very long. It wasn't hard to figure out." She still doesn't speak and so he's left to take in her appearance before moving in to hug her, "I'm so glad you're okay." but she doesn't hug back.

When he lets go she questions, "Are you?"

"Yeah. Of course." He tenses a smile, "You're my girlfriend. Of course I'm glad to know you're okay."

"Even after what happened last night?" Mal continues to frown.

Ben's silent for a minute, as he seems to be remembering what she had referred to, "That wasn't you." He looks her in the eyes, "It was an accident. I know that."

"An accident?" Mal raises her eyebrows. "Is that really what you would call it?"

"No," Ben answers. "It's what we would call it." He glances down for a mere second, "My family has a very understanding viewpoint about these kinds of things." Mal doesn't speak, so he takes her hand, "Come on. Let's get you down from here." He looks around, "How did you get up here anyway?"

Mal shrugs, "Beats me."

He nods once, "Come on. I'll help you get back."

After they find a path down to the ground Ben helps Mal across the shortest distance of water they can find, and they soon make their way back to the ruin where Mal sits down on the concrete and watches as Ben shakes himself dry, "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?" he asks as he sits down near her.

Mal shakes her head and almost smiles, "Never mind." before she reaches for the drawing she had made earlier.

Ben leans in to see it, "That's Audrey."

"It's just about all I remember," Mal tiredly comments as she stares down at it. "She looks so scared." She gazes up at Ben, "Did I scare you?"

He shakes his head, "No. Mostly, I was just confused."

Mal looks down at the picture again, "I don't know what to do."

"You should apologize."

Mal looks back up at him, "You said you thought it was an accident."

"Yeah." Ben reasons, "But that doesn't mean no one got hurt."

She glances back down, "I know." before setting the sketchpad aside.

He looks at her intently, "How are you feeling?"

Mal turns her head back up, "Tired." before she meets his and admits it. "Empty. Just tired and empty."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mal shakes her head, before she moves closer to him and lies down so that her head rests on his leg. He partly smiles, "What are you doing?"

She moves her head back-and-forth as she gets comfortable, "You're a pillow now." He inwardly laughs, and after a minute of quiet he eyes the drawing pad and reaches for it. "Hey. That's mine."

He smiles, "Don't worry. I'll keep it safe for you." before he feels her relax again and he goes through the pictures. Apparently Audrey wasn't the only one she could recall perfectly from memory. Aside from that drawing, there are plenty of pictures of him and Evie in here as well, along with the occasional sketch of some random scenes or objects. The further back he goes the more different they become, and it doesn't take long for him to realize these are images of the island and its people. The scenes are darker and the objects in them are more frightening, weapons of all kinds shown in nearly every picture. He shakes his head, knowing that although it may seem frightening to him, to Mal it was nothing other than just her home. He closes the sketchbook and sets it aside, before he lays his hand on Mal's arm and she falls asleep.

* * *

\- No. He did not just sit like that for three hours. You can kind of assume that he texted Evie to let her know that Mal was okay... On a side note, when I first thought of this chapter the only part of it I had planned was where Ben would guide Mal back down from the cliff and that as he did so there would be a moment where she'd imagine his hand turned into a hook; however, after I forgot about that scene and wrote this, I soon realized she probably wouldn't have trusted him enough to sleep next to him had she compared him to Hook like that (whether there had been a trigger and she thought about it intentionally or not). So, that lovely seen is just going to have to fade into oblivion, unless, of course, I can find a better place to put it, because this scene where she's all worn out and just falls asleep like that is just too calming and nice to throw away (this fanfic needs some good moments too, you know).

\- Now! All I need to do is to get myself to write the next stupid chapter. It's just a simple... or not so simple dinner with Ben's parents... I just— it should be easy to write, right? *shakes head* I don't know... I probably should have written it back when I was thinking about it, when I was writing the chapter from about four chapters ago. *nods* Yep. *shakes head again* I'm never going to learn, am I?


	57. Prejudice of Dragons

**Prejudice of Dragons**

 **(Day 36: Sunday Evening)**

"Today Her and His Majesty of Auradon visited the Charmington's city library with King Charming and Queen Cinderella to host a fundraiser." Ben stares at the TV screen, as the reporter steps out in front of his parents. "What prompted you to host this fundraiser? What are you hoping to achieve?"

His mother smiles, "As you know, every year we are supplied with a report of how each school of each kingdom is doing in regards to education. Charmington has always held a pretty high standard in learning, so we were very surprised to see how much their average decreased over the last year."

"When they contacted us," King Charming continues, "we were also very surprised. It took us a while to figure out what was wrong, but we eventually figured out that our language classes had poor outcomes. As it turns out, there has been somewhat of a divide in Charmington, where those of a higher standing know English very well but that those of a lower income have maintained their French language."

"How could this have happened?" the reporter inquires. "And how did it remain unnoticed for so long?"

"The divide my husband speaks of," Cinderella explains, "is not only a metaphorical divide. There is also a very physical divide. You see, how much income a family earns determines where they may live. We cannot blame these people for not picking up English as fast as the rest of us, because the community in which they live is a very tight-knit one and the school the children attend there is also very French-based with only the minimum amount of English classes available."

"Our hope," Ben's mother answers, "is to encourage children to read more and for any profits of which will be made here today to be spent on the libraries and education system of those lower income sectors."

Ben hears the small limo pull up, and he looks out the window to see his father exit the black car, outstretching his arm before his mother takes the hand and steps out of the vehicle herself. He walks away from the window and hurries down to the main floor, and it's just as he makes it there that his parents come in through the front door. "Ben."

He hears his father's mild shock before uneasily smiling, "Hey." and he looks at his mom's concerned intrigue. "I saw you on the news. You were great."

"Honey." She takes a step forward, "What's wrong?"

It takes a minute for him to ask, "I don't suppose you had the chance to check your social media yet today?"

She shakes her head, "No. Why?"

He almost laughs through his frown, "Mal had this incident with Audrey, and Chad posted a video of it." He watches his father take out his phone. "Maybe we could sit down first?" His mother nods and takes his father's arm, before they walk over to the alcove sitting area. "Oh. And before you watch it…" His father looks from the phone to him in question as his mother listens intently. Ben sits in the red armchair and holds his hands together, glancing at the floor for a minute before meeting his parents' expressions. "Mal… Apparently she's a hybrid."

"Ben," his mother begins. "Humanoid fairies aren't hybrids. They're just humans who have evolved to be able to harness magic."

"No. I know," Ben looks down before shutting his eyes. "It's not that." He uneasily laughs and unsurely smiles, as he looks back up at them, "Ahh. How do you feel about dragons?"

"Dragons," his father repeats, and Ben notice's how his mother's eyes have widened.

She closes her gaped mouth, before she slowly answers, "Well, dragons. They're… They're very—" She strains a smile, "I've heard a lot about them."

"You see," Ben explains, "the crux of the incident that happened was because Audrey was holding a school-sanctioned event, which apparently caused the hot water to run low."

His mother shakes her head, "I still don't understand. What does that have to do with anything?"

"A lot," he answers, before he gestures. "Mal can't generate her own body heat, and so… when the hot water ran out she got..." He looks between his parents, "Upset."

"Upset," his father repeats.

"Well, yeah," Ben unsurely confirms. "Or desperate— desperate works too."

His father stares at him for a moment, "Let's just take a look at it for ourselves, shall we?" before he lights up the screen again and types in the password.

"She is a very different Mal in the video than we've known her as," Ben warns. His mother glances at him in a moment of worry, before she looks down at the screen. He hears it. He hears Chad oohing at the spectacle, as Fairy Godmother walks towards Mal. Ben sees his mother cover her mouth, "You're not afraid of her, are you?" His father puts up a hand, instructing him to remain quiet; however, soon he asks his own question.

"What is she doing there?"

Ben watches as Mal inches closer to his ex-girlfriend, "I didn't ask." before the video moves from Mal to him and back again. "It's important to know," he notes as he watches Mal embrace him, "that she doesn't really remember any of this."

"How could she not remember this?" his mother asks, but she fails to peel her eyes from the treacherous event.

"She was running on instinct," Ben accepts. "Evie said that she can get this way when she's cold sometimes."

His father looks up at him in seriousness, "And how is that supposed to make this okay?"

Ben tries to smile, "Evie also said that so long as warm and shiny things are kept nearby that it shouldn't be an issue."

When the video ends his mother glances at his father, "And we thought Audrey was high maintenance." before she looks at him in sincerity. "I don't want to sound specist or anything," she begins, and it takes her a minute to continue. "But a dragon hybrid girlfriend. Are you sure you can handle that?"

Ben slightly furrows his eyebrows at her, "You didn't ask me if I was sure that I'd be able to handle a fairy girlfriend, even back when she was doing magic on a daily basis."

His mother opens her mouth before saying, "This is different."

"Because she's a dragon hybrid," Ben concludes. "She's not a merperson or an angel. She's part dragon. That's what bothers you."

"Come on, Son," his father tries to reason. "You've seen the news reports, how those creatures have burned Camelot to the ground time and time again, making it nearly impossible for them to make it out of their medieval infrastructure and economy." He gestures, "Those things have pillaged farms for livestock, have killed people—"

"And we've killed plenty of them," Ben reasons back, which causes his parents to silence in shock as though this is new news to them. "Don't you think I did any amount of research on this once I found out?" He shakes his head, "Why do you think Camelot has the most problems with dragons? I'd say it's because of the way they treat them." Ben glances down at the dark rug for a moment, "It's like a war. There's been plenty of killings on both sides, but the humans are just too scared and ignorantly stupid to know when to quit."

"What are they supposed to do?" his father angers. "Just let themselves be killed?"

"Don't you get it?" Ben argues. "The dragons are only fighting back, because it doesn't matter whether they're on the offensive or defensive. They're still being hunted down."

"A dragon's armor is impenetrable. Only their wings can be damaged without some magical weapon." He attempts a calming breath, "No one is hunting dragons anymore."

"No," Ben calms himself down as well. "Now they're just starving them to death. Why do you think they eat livestock in the first place? Why would they take such a big risk for something so relatively small in size, if they had any other options?"

"So. You're saying that you think Camelot's livestock gets taken because they have cut the dragons off from their own food supply, and you also think that the dragons have been destroying Camelot out of some kind of revenge?" Ben doesn't speak, waiting for his father to say what he thinks. "You make it sound like those monsters have some sort of rational thought."

Ben huffs a laugh, "Monsters." before he shakes his head. "They're not monsters. They are just a species on the edge of extinction trying to survive." He glances down for a moment, "A lot like how Mal was focused on her own survival when she went after Audrey."

"You recognize," his mother comments, "that if it's just in her nature to be vengeful and self-focused, then more incidents like this will happen again."

Ben shakes his head, "I can't believe this." before he stands from the chair. "I should have never even told you."

As he starts to walk away, Ben hears his father ask, "Then why did you?"

Ben turns back around and raises his eyebrows in disbelief, "Why did I? How about because Mal tried to drown herself, that's why?" He feels tears sting his eyes, "When she found out what she had done to Audrey, she felt so guilty. If I hadn't found her when I did, then she'd be dead right now." and then the tears fall. "All I wanted to do was tell you, to let you know what happened, so that I could ask you for advice— so that we could figure out the right course of action to help her…" He takes a few steps back, "But if all she is is a monster, then what's the point?" before he starts into a run. As he goes up the staircase, he can hear his parents call after him, but he doesn't care. Mostly, because, he's almost eighty percent certain that they're just going to focus on him, tell him what to think and how to feel, but that wouldn't help anything.

* * *

When Ben gets to his room he sits down on the edge of his bed and wipes the tears away with his sleeve, but when he places his hand to his cheek and forehead he finds them to be overly warm. It's no surprise; it's something that often happens when he cries, but this time when he tries to calm his breathing and keep the crying from continuing he finds it hard to. His breaths seem to have calmed, but then about every forth is shaken as some sort of sob. The tears are also hard to keep at bay, though he has been able to keep them from falling to his cheeks. He lays his back on the soft pillows, as he fully lies on the bed and brings his legs closer to his chest. The TV is still on, and Ben finds his breathing steady further as he focuses on the video of Audrey and her grandmother. "I'm not blaming Ben for this. He's always seen the best in people— even those who have betrayed him or given him absolutely no reason to trust them— and sadly I'm afraid that even once he comes to grips of what his girlfriend did to me that he probably still won't break up with her."

There's a knock on his door, "Hey. Honey. I just wanted to see how you're doing." but he doesn't look at his mother.

Queen Leah grimly comments to the camera, "We will be suing, of course."

"And who do you plan to sue?" asks the reporter.

"Why, Maleficent's daughter. Who else? You know, it's bad enough that my and my daughter's lives were ruined by the claws of that monster, but now her daughter has actively sought out my granddaughter to hurt her."

When the grandmother places her hands on Audrey's shoulders she attempts to smile, "I'm not completely sure if hurt is the right word, but when she used her magic on me I was absolutely terrified. I couldn't move— I was too scared to even speak— and even her supposed best friend was unable to tame her enough to get her off of me." She looks straight into the camera, "Mal needs to be punished for her wrongdoing, because if she isn't… then, well, what's stopping her from doing this exact thing— or something even worse— to someone again?"

When the TV turns to black Ben looks at his mother, whom sets the remote down on the bedside table. "How are you doing?"

"I don't know," he mumbles.

"You look warm," his mother comments, before she takes a few steps closer to him and places a hand to his forehead. "Have you taken any medicine?"

Ben stares at the blank screen, "I just took two Tylenol three hours ago. What am I supposed to do, just take a couple more now and then some more garbage before I go to sleep?"

She's quiet for a minute, "If you feel like you've already taken too much today, then maybe we could try an ice pack? I know you've complained before about how it seems to just melt on contact, but while we're in the kitchen we could also get you some nice ice cream."

Ben remembers the hard ice packs and how as they grew softer a horrible stench could be smelled, which would soon after be followed by the sticky liquid sliding down his skin, "I hate ice packs."

"What about the ice cream?"

"I don't want ice cream," he grumbles.

"We have to do something to lower your temperature," his mother insists. "If you don't want ice cream, then what do you want?"

Ben takes the pillow next to him and holds it, "Mal." as he imagines her cold lips caressing his. "If she were here, she'd make me feel better."

It takes a moment for her to ask, "And where is she now?"

"With Evie. Back at the school. In their dorm."

"Maybe," his mother starts but then trails off, before she takes another breath and offers, "Would you like me to have the driver get her?"

Ben slowly shakes his head, "No. I shouldn't be using her like that when she's feeling the way she's been… I'll just take the stupid pills." before he takes the new tic-tac container from his pocket.

"About Mal—" She watches her son take two of the white tablets out, downing them with the bottled water on the table, before she sits on the end of his bed. "I know I may have seemed insensitive before—" When she meets Ben's eyes his expression shows a certain disbelief, but he waits calmly for her to get past the excuses. "Are you sure she tried to drown herself?"

He stares blankly at her, "I'm very sure." before he glances down at the blue bed coverings. "If I didn't know better, which I probably couldn't with all of the classes I've already taken…" He looks back up at his mother, "I'm pretty sure she's depressed." She doesn't speak. "Her exact words were 'empty' and 'tired'." She nods in thought. "That along with the suicide attempt… do you think she should be put on antidepressants or something?"

"Honestly?" his mother questions, as she places a hand to the back of her neck for a second. "I'm not sure if those would work on her."

"Why," Ben asks, "because she's a hybrid?"

"No," she lets out in an uneasy breath. "Usually all that's required for a hybrid is an adjustment in dosage." Ben gives an inquiring look, and she turns her eyes to the bedding. "No. Putting that entire variable aside…" She looks back up at him and informs, "Antidepressants are meant for people who have chemical misfirings in their brain. Mal… she's just been through a lot, and putting her on medication wouldn't make any of her problems go away. It would be like someone getting shot and trying to put a Band-Aid over it. It won't work."

"I don't understand." Ben almost laughs, "How can you be so sure? I mean, if there's even a remote possibility of it preventing her from trying to hurt herself again, then shouldn't we at least try it?"

His mother places a hand on his leg, and there's a long moment of serious silence until she stresses, "Trust me. I know it won't work." She shakes her head, "And no, it isn't worth the risk. If someone isn't truly depressed, antidepressants can have severe adverse effects, which include the possibility of increased depression, agitation, and irritability."

"All things that Mal is already prone to," Ben frowns.

"If it doesn't work on her," she states, "then there's a good possibility that we wouldn't even know. If we were to tell her that it's going to make her better and it doesn't, then she may feel the need to hide it from us or she may somehow think that with time it's something that will just kick in."

"She has been very quiet," Ben admits as he glances down for a moment. "But if medication can't help her, then what are we supposed to do?"

"We take the bullet out, and then we manage and clean the wound until it properly heals."

"Meaning what?" he asks.

"Meaning that we figure out why she's so depressed— you said she felt guilty about what happened with Audrey— and we address it..." She nods, "We tell her it was a mistake— an accident— and we help her earn the forgiveness of the people she's hurt and later the forgiveness of herself."

"That's all?" he unsurely questions.

"It will be hard," his mother admits, "but it is necessary." She nods her head to the side, "And, of course, I'm sure Mal has more than one bullet wound with where she grew up, but if we keep pulling the roots out, then one day there shouldn't be any left."

Ben nods, "I understand."

She smiles, "I hope you didn't cancel dinner. We're going to need her over here to talk everything over… which, now, unfortunately includes Audrey's lawsuit."

"I didn't cancel anything," he evenly responds.

"Good," his mother unsurely comments, before she folds her hands together and tenses a smile. "What do dragons eat, exactly?"

"Mom," Ben voices.

"What?" she defenses. "I'm just…"

"You're just losing it," Ben finishes. "You find out Mal is part dragon and all of a sudden all of your years of study goes out the window."

"To be fair, I didn't exactly study dragons."

"I know," he nods. "And any of the information you did get came from a news network run by biased humans who are probably too scared to even pick up a book on dragons." She stays quiet. "Mal has been here for dinner many times, and if memory serves she actually complemented it once." He smiles at his worrying mother, "I think things will be fine."

"Right," she nods, but then she tilts her head to the side. "Just for reference—"

"Dragons eat meat," Ben informs with tension, before he partly laughs. "And we're not exactly very good vegetarians ourselves. Even if that is something she has inherited, I'm still fairly certain she won't have a single problem eating what we eat."

"Right," his mother uneasily laughs before smiling. "I'm sorry. I know I must sound like one of those crazy news clippings back from when your father first became human."

"Now that you mention it…" Ben agrees.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes again.

"It's fine," he accepts, but then he glances down in thought. "However." He looks back up at her, "Mal's self-esteem has never been very good in the first place. If you could continue to treat her the way you started to during out first dinner together, then that would be very much appreciated." He stresses, "Okay? She's not a dragon, she's not a fairy, and she's not Maleficent's daughter. She's just my girlfriend. Can you please treat her as such?"

She frowns with a nod, "Yes. I can do that."

He nods back, "Thank you."

* * *

\- Yeah. I was surprised to learn that Cinderella took place in France too. The way the characters and buildings looked gave me a very English vibe growing up. I always thought French people had darker hair colors. Is that not usually the case? If not, then I'm sorry for the assumption. I don't know where I would have picked that false fact up from, then.

\- Also, apparently there's a certain kind of discrimination going on here. What do you guys think of his parents' reactions? Any comments you have at all about this chapter would be appreciated... even if it's someone saying that they've taken antidepressants before and that there's no reason why it shouldn't work. On the other hand, if you'd like to vent about the horrible experience you've had with them then that's also acceptable. Seriously. I love reading comments and a lot happened in this chapter (probably because it was 7 pgs long), so I expect at least one of you to respond.


	58. You Can't Leave Me

**You Can't Leave Me**

 **(Day 36: Sunday Evening)**

When they seat at dinner there's a staggering silence, before they begin to pack their plates and Belle breaks the ice, "So. Mal. How was your day?"

"Crappy." Ben gives his mother a brief look of disbelief, and Mal looks up to glance between the three hosts as the silence continues. "Not to be overly blunt of anything."

"Ah-um," Ben interjects. "I don't suppose you saw the news coverage of Audrey today?"

Mal pours the milk into her glass as she mutters, "My friends and I really need to start watching more TV."

"So. That's a no, then." he assumes.

Mal takes a sip of her drink, "What did she say?"

"Well," Ben begins, but he has a hard time getting the rest out. "Um. She and her grandmother claim they're going to sue you."

"As in court," Mal guesses.

"Yes."

"For assault," she finishes as she stares down at the table.

"We don't know what they're charging you with," he denies before trailing off. "However..." He looks at her, "Magic is considered a weapon if used to harm another, and it probably won't matter that your hypnotism is a part of you. By using it against Audrey that means that the assault could be considered aggravated." He watches her continue to stare down without a word, and it takes a moment for him to hesitantly mention, "There's a video of what you did posted online. Anyone could have seen it by now." She still fails to speak. "I'm going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me." Mal glances at him for a second. "If I hadn't shown up when I did… were you going to kiss her?"

Mal inwardly chuckles, "If the objective was to take as much heat as I could from her, then I have no doubt I would have." before she looks up at him.

He looks down and picks up a clump of smashed potatoes with his fork, "Let's just hope no one else figured that out." before he takes the bite.

"Because that makes things worse," Mal evenly comments.

Ben looks back up at her and loudly responds, "Yes. It would." He shakes his head. "I know it was just an accident and that you hardly even remember it, but there was that whole part where you incapacitated her with your hypnotism. She couldn't even move."

Mal blankly stares at him, "I know."

"That means that you attempted to kiss when she was defenseless. You might has well have drugged her." She doesn't respond, so he stresses, "If you get charged with sexual assault, that would be two to six years in prison. If aggravated, then you could get up to twenty years and be put on the registry." but Mal continues to frown in silence.

"Ben." When he turns he finds his mother shaking her head at him. "She gets it."

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, "I'm sorry." before he turns back to Mal. "It's just… I want you to care, you know. Several years of freedom that you've only just gotten are on the line here." Mal looks down at her empty plate, knowing that it hardly feels as though she's free at all, but she doesn't say anything. "It's your life… and you're a part of mine. I don't want to spend the next five years looking at you through a piece of glass or talking to you in a room where we won't even be allowed to shake hands."

Mal looks back up at him, "Is it really that bad?" a glimpse of fear escaping her voice.

"Don't worry." Belle assures, "We're going to help you."

"We are?" Adam asks, but then he sees his wife give him a look. "Ah! Yes. Of course, we're going to help. Anything we can do, we will."

Belle smiles at Mal, "I'll contact our lawyer tomorrow to see what our options are." Mal merely nods, and then Belle eyes the empty plate. "You didn't take anything to eat."

"Oh," Mal glances down for a moment. "I'm not very hungry."

"Really?" Ben asks as he looks over her. "Because your stomach does seem to be growling quite a bit."

"We've discussed this." Mal looks at him, "It always does that. It doesn't matter how much I eat. It's always going to do that."

He's quiet for a second, "Even so, we did invite you for dinner." before he shrugs. "Maybe you could just humor me and pick something out."

Mal looks over the assortment of items and eventually complies, taking a big slice of ham and placing it on her plate; however, when she reaches for the utensils she sighs in annoyance, "What? Did I lose my knife privileges too?"

"Do you need me to cut it for you?" Ben offers.

She nods her head down at him, "You took my knife?"

He smiles, "My knife." before he shakes his head. "Ah. No. We just didn't give you one. Would you like me to cut it for you?"

She pushes her plate closer to him before crossing her arms, "You think it's funny."

"Well, yeah," Ben picks up his knife and Mal's fork, before he looks up into her eyes. "It's just so adorable, the way that you're so possessive and protective over everything."

Mal laughs, "Oh, shut up. It is not."

"No. It is," he insists as he drops the utensils and places a hand to her face. "It's as adorable as you are." His hand brushes her cheek, as he moves it to her beautifully dark purple, wavy hair; however, when he slides his fingers down a strand of it he finds himself examining the color longer than necessary.

Mal's smile falters, "What is it?"

Ben shakes his head and drops the strand, returning to the previous task of cutting the ham for her, "Nothing." He rests the knife for a mere second. "It's just that the jury is going to assume that you dye your hair."

"Which is bad?" Mal questions.

It takes a moment for him to inform, "There have been studies that people who have dyed hair, piercings, or tattoos are usually seen as more problematic to authority figures."

"What should I do?" Mal mumbles. "Dye my hair blond or something?"

"But then you would just be doing what you don't want them to think you're doing," Ben shakes his head. "That may just make things even worse." Mal watches as he slices the meat into vertical lines, and she notices that it isn't very different from the lines she has cut upon her own skin. "It's probably best to keep your natural color and just explain it if, for some reason, they feel the need to bring it up." The juice even escapes the cuts as the blood had done with hers. Except that it's deeper, a lot deeper, and the meat is completely torn apart. Is that how it would look like if she'd gone deeper? Would her flesh part just as easily? Would the bone be shown, just as the white plate is shown beneath the ham?

"Mal?"

She looks back up at him, "Yeah."

He pauses for a moment, "I asked you if there's anything else we should know."

"Know fooor what, exactly?"

She can hear him make a noise, as though he's displeased or has given up on something. "We were talking about how Audrey's lawyer is going to try to dig up as much as they can about you. We wanted to know if there was anything we should know, so that there's less likelihood of being any surprises."

Mal eyes the table for a moment, "Right." before she opens her mouth to answer the question; however, there's so much about her that she doesn't know where to start. "Um. Well… I'm not sure if I mentioned this or not before, but back on the Isle a few years ago I was sort of part of this gang."

"A gang?" Belle widens her eyes in surprise.

"That guy I mentioned before… the one I was with before Ben—" She glances around and watches them stare at her intently. "He introduced me to it. I was a part of it for a couple years." She takes a breath in remembrance, "My main job was to find people to sell to, lure them in… give them the good old hospitality, which I was already kind of doing anyway."

"Sell?" Belle uneasily comments. "As in… drugs."

"As in a lot of things," Mal informs, before she remembers how she'd met Hook. After she had turned ten and had her growth spurt she just became so desperate for heat, and that eventually led her to going to that building. The building was dark, usually only lit by broken neon signs, and the hallways were small with sharp corners, the entire thing made of grey brick. It had been nearly a full year of paying those prostitutes for heat when she'd met him. He knew her by name, except that he didn't. She was called Purple, the girl with the purple hair who came to that brothel at least three times every single week. _I was his best customer._ She slowly moves her head down, as she eyes the table, her mouth slightly agape as she indistinctly mouths, "Their best customer."

"And how long exactly is a couple years?" the gruff voice sternly inquires.

Mal looks up to find Adam's glasses folded in his hands, and she hesitates to say, "I was with him for almost half a year before I was brought in." She looks back down at the table, both because she has to do the math and because she really doesn't want to see their expressions. "I would have been eleven when I joined, and I left when I was fourteen."

"So three years," Ben answers, before his expression turns to concern. "You were with him for three years?"

Mal rolls her eyes, "It didn't mean anything. Everything I did with him…" She gestures as she tries to reason, "It was only ever for heat. That's all."

"It was three years," Ben brings up again. "I doubt those three years of your life meant absolutely nothing to you."

"You know," Mal irritably responds, "I've been friends with Evie for nearly three years now— a relationship that does actually mean something to me, by the way." She slightly shakes her head, "Sooo, what? Are you going to start getting all worried over her too?"

Ben releases a breath before calmly answering, "No. Of course, not."

"Okay, then." She notices the forgotten plate, "Are you done cutting that?"

He looks down and remembers it, "No… sorry." before he picks up the knife and fork again. "Let me just make a couple cuts across." It's quiet for a minute as she watches him slide the knife over twice to turn each slice into thirds, and soon enough the plate and fork is given back to her. "Here you go." Mal moves the plate in front of her and stabs the fork into one of the rectangles, before she brings the piece to her mouth and eats it.

"So," Belle continues the previous subject, "is there anything else we should know?"

Mal uses her fork to flip one of the rectangles on its side, "There isn't enough time in the world to list every little thing I've done that could jeopardize this court thing."

"What about more recent things?" she asks. "Is there anything you've done in the last couple years that could make the jury believe you're a threat?"

"You mean like stealing Fairy Godmother's wand during a royal coronation to break every villain out of the island prison and take over the kingdom?" Mal looks up at her, "No. I can't say I have." before she shakes her head and stares back down at her plate. "A very nice thing I almost did there, having something like that happen seconds after Ben is crowned king and probably end up having everyone blame it on him and say he's just that bad of a ruler." She sets her fork down, "Maybe you shouldn't help me."

"Why?" Ben asks. "Just because of what happened at coronation?" She doesn't speak. "If they bring it up, then we can just tell them that you were threatened into doing it. I mean, because I know you were threatened. I know I didn't just imagine how terrified you all looked, and if I saw it then others must have too."

"It still doesn't change what I did," Mal refutes.

"But you were forgiven," Ben reminds her. "When you chose good, we forgave you."

"That's not what I'm talking about," she seethes as she shuts her eyes. "I meant Audrey." She shakes her head, "Whatever we do or say, it's not going to change what I did."

"No. It won't," Ben acknowledges. "But you're not some threat to society that needs to be separated from people. This trial isn't going to save anyone. All it will do is hurt more people. All it's going to do is hurt you. You can't honestly think surrendering to this is a good idea."

"You want to know what I think?" Mal looks up at him, and there's silence for a moment. "What I think is that whether it was an accident or not— that whether I meant to hurt her or not— that since it did hurt her I still deserve to be punished. In some way. In some form."

"Like how you were going to jump off that cliff into the lake," Ben mentions, and Mal stares down again. "You don't deserve a punishment. The regret you feel is punishment enough."

"But what about how she felt?" Mal denies as she remembers her encounter with Hook and trails off into a whisper. "How she must still feel?" She remembers the cold metal against her wrists, "She couldn't move." and how when he'd moved in between her legs that she lost her chance to kick him. "She was helpless." She remembers how she had tried to use her hypnotism after he had undone his own pants and how it had fritzed out, "She was powerless." before she looks back up at Ben. "And I made her feel that way."

"Okay. Yes," Ben admits. "You hurt someone, but that doesn't mean you should be hurt too. It doesn't mean that you go off and kill yourself." She looks away from him. "No one deserves to die, no matter what they've done." Mal stares blankly, feeling as though she disagrees and that if she had to die in order for Hook to die, then she'd gladly take that sacrifice. "You hear me?" Ben stresses. "No one deserves to die."

She meets his eyes again and calmly states, "I disagree."

"Why?" he questions in hysteria. "Why would you do that? How could you believe you deserve a kind of punishment like that?"

"Because." Mal shouts back, "If I were assaulted, I'd want him dead." before she hears her words and slowly moves her head and eyes down towards the table. "I guess, I just thought that maybe… she'd feel the same way."

It takes a moment for Ben to respond, more calmly this time, but the worry is still apparent in his tone, "I know Audrey. She wouldn't want you to die. If you killed yourself and she found out that it was because you thought she wanted it, then she'd feel the same guilt and regret that you do right now." Mal stays silent, still staring at the empty part of the table. "Do you understand? You can't kill yourself." She finally looks back up at him. "I can't lose you— You can't leave me."

Mal is quiet for a moment, before she moves to rest her head on his shoulder, "I don't want to." and then Ben places a hand over her shoulders as he glances at his parents.

* * *

\- The nickname Hook has for her in the movie actually makes sense now, doesn't it... I mean, not that it didn't make sense before, but I think this backstory makes it all the more impactful. What do you guys think?


	59. A Threat to their Existence

**A Threat to their Existence**

 **(Day 37: Monday Morning)**

"It's just therapy," Carlos comments at the cafeteria table. "I looked it up. All they do is listen to you, help you understand what you're feeling, and occasionally try to offer a solution. But they can't make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Which is why they're going to brainwash me," Evie skeptically responds before taking a sip of her apple juice. "They're going to say things like that nurse did. They're going to say it's bad for me, that it's pointless and that I could die." She grips the glass hard, "They're just going to try to scare me so that I can't reach my full potential."

"What?" Jay replies in frustrated confusion. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Evie," Carlos slowly asks, "are you even hearing yourself? Why would they want to stop you from reaching your full potential?"

Evie shrugs, "Maybe they're jealous." as she raises her plucked eyebrows in thought. "That's how it goes, isn't it? That someone fails to make their dreams come true, so they just start to stop other people from making theirs come true."

Carlos and Jay glance at each other, knowing that to an extent she isn't wrong; however, Carlos still looks back at her and denies the idea, "Not everyone's idea of happiness is to look perfect. They're not trying to sabotage you. They want to help you."

Evie scoffs, "Help. Right." before she grits her teeth and narrows her eyes at him. "That's what they all say."

Carlos sighs before he sees Mal join the table, "It's about time. Can you tell her that she's completely lost it?"

Mal darts her eyes from Carlos to Jay, "What is he talking about?"

"We've been trying to get Evie to see a therapist about her eating issues," Jay explains, "but she still doesn't want to go."

"Oooh, no," Mal lets out and shakes her head. "There's no way I'm getting involved in this. You're just going to have to convince her yourself."

"Mal," Jay starts.

"No," Mal finishes. "I'm not losing her trust. She has to tell the truth to someone. You can forget it."

"Fine," he reluctantly accepts, and after a moment of quiet he brings his attention to her. "How's your morning going so far?"

"Just brilliant," she sarcastically answers, but then she frowns and becomes contemplatively quiet.

"What is it?" asks Carlos.

"Part of the reason why it took me so long to get here…" Mal looks up between the two of them. "Someone told me to go back to Hell where I belong."

"That's horrible," Jay sympathizes. "Who told you that? I should—"

"You shouldn't do anything," Mal tiredly interrupts, before she stares down at her plate of bacon and toast. "If it wasn't them, it would have just been someone else."

"Wait. Them?" Carlos questions.

"There was a group of them," she explains. "All these preppy girls grouped together like some sort of hunting pack." She laughs, "I mean, of course they'd be grouped together like that. I'm dangerous… a threat to their existence."

"Mal," Jay places a hand to her arm, but then his previous thoughts escape him. "You're cold." He gives her a look, but Mal can't tell if it's filled with more accusation or concern.

She pulls her arm away, "I don't care." before she looks off towards the table that Audrey sits at with Lonnie, Ruby, Chad, and a couple other guys from the tourney team; however, soon after Audrey spots her stare, causing her smile to fall into a deep frown.

"Mal," Jay starts again, but then she stands from the table. "Wait. Where are you going?"

"Apologizing," Mal simplify states before walking over to Audrey's table, but by the time she reaches it Chad stands in her way.

"You're not getting to her," he firmly comments, and Mal can hear the anger underneath his pitiful attempt to keep her at bay. She could just hypnotize him to move, but she knows that won't earn her any favors.

"I don't want to get to her," Mal disputes. "I just want to talk to her."

"Talk to her," Chad unsurely says.

"To apologize," Mal insists, and a minute later Audrey stands from her seat to face her.

"Apologize?" she stresses at the absurdity. "You didn't seem very keen on apologizing when you were attacking me."

Mal shuts her eyes for a second, "Look. I don't know what happened, but—"

"You don't know what happened," Audrey sasses in disbelief.

"I don't remember," Mal says louder, and as she looks around she can see the entire cafeteria observing the spectacle, including Ben. She eyes him for a moment, so much just wanting to make him the least bit proud, before she turns back to Audrey. "Look. I just really need you to know it was never my intention to hurt you."

"Really?" Audrey doubts. "It didn't seem that way that the time." She nods, "In fact, I'm pretty sure when your bestie asked if you really wanted to do it, you said you did."

"Like I said," Mal insecurely restates, "I don't know what happened. But you have to believe me when I say that I'm sorry and that I want to apologize."

Audrey huffs, "There's no way I'm accepting an apology from you for something you claim to not even remember."

"Why not?" Mal yells in frustration. All she was told to do was apologize. She was never told that there was a chance for it to not be accepted.

"Because," Audrey starts. "When you apologize for doing something, you're making a promise not to ever to that thing again." Mal glances back at Ben. It hadn't appeared that way when his family was explaining the importance of an apology before. "If you don't know what you did wrong, then you can't promise to not do that thing again."

Mal is quiet for a long moment, her mouth slightly agape, "I hurt you. I know that, and that's enough of a reason to apologize." She looks into her eyes, "I'm sorry."

Audrey stares at her, "Don't tell me you're sorry. Tell the judge. If you can convince him, then he may have mercy on you."

"Audrey," Mal begins.

"If you convince him, then I may just believe you," Audrey comments. "Until then… or even after…" She looks from the floor to the predator, "If I couldn't trust you before, I certainly can't now."

"So, that's it," Mal sadly laughs. "There's nothing I can do to convince you."

"You mean, short of your magic?" Audrey points out, and it's quiet for a moment. "No. I'm afraid you can't."

Mal gulps with a nod, before she walks away and moves past her own table. Jay calls after her, "Mal. Your breakfast." but she doesn't listen. She just moves forward, heading to her locker to grab her things. The hallways are mostly quiet, only a single person here or there minding her own business, and when she finds the room number her suspension is to take place in she leans against the wall, her knee out and foot on the wall, as she waits for the door to open.

* * *

\- Mal dIdn't Even correct her on the hypnotism not being magic.


	60. Just a Drawing

**Just a Drawing**

 **(Day 37-38: Monday-Tuesday Morning)**

 _What are the stages of the rock cycle? Explain each stage to the best of your ability_. "To the best of my ability," Mal mutters under her breath, before she eyes the pages of the textbook. She finds the diagram and looks over it, before she writes the names of each stage on the five corresponding lines of the worksheet. _Now all I have to do is find the in-depth explanations of these and paraphrase them_. She flips the pages, and when she finds the definitions she writes those down as well. _Next question: how are igneous rocks formed?_ She writes the answer down. _When magma reaches the surface and begins to cool down it can turn into igneous rocks. Duh_.

Mal shakes her head and moves her hand to the side of the paper. She starts with a line, and then she makes sharp turns. She watches herself as she draws it, not really knowing what it could turn out to be, but when she finishes the rough sketch she understands perfectly. _It's a knife_. She looks from it to the teacher, before she looks back down and makes the lines sharper and darker, adding detail and shading a she goes along. It has to cut something, she decides, and then she adds two lines on either side of it. The lines go from the printed words to the very edge of the paper. She looks up from it to her colored pens, before she takes the bright red and ice blue from the open case. From there she takes the red and colors the part underneath the knife, making sure the blood also drips off the side of the wrist, and afterwards she uses the blue to draw in the veins for detail. If only she had colored pencils. If she had colored pencils, then she could color in the rest of the wrist and knife without drawing attention away from the main details.

She looks through the pencil case, until she finds a light pink and peach and a dark brown and black. She uses the brown to color in the handle of the knife, the black creating the cracks between the wood, and she uses the other two colors for the wrist. The light pink is used towards the cut, recreating the inflammation she's seen so many times before, and it's blended with the peach as she makes her way to the outer edges of the wrist. "Mal?" She covers up the side of the paper with her arm before looking up at the teacher, whom still sits at his desk. "You can leave for lunch now."

Mal eyes the clock and then stares down at her assignments, knowing fully well that all that would greet her when she leaves the room is stares, and she wonders, "Would it be possible for me to just stay here and get back to work?"

"You don't want to go to lunch?" the blond instructor looks up at her curiously.

 _Or is it concern?_ "I don't really see the point."

"The body needs fuel to function, fats for the brain to feed off of," he notes, but she doesn't respond. "If you're worried about falling behind, then don't be. You're not very behind at all, and if you don't take care of yourself—"

"I'd just really like to stay here," Mal frustrates.

The teacher is quiet for a minute, "Mal. Is there something wrong?"

She remembers how those girls told her to go back to Hell, how they eyed her like she was just some disgusting piece of trash, and how they'd called her psycho as she ignored them and left. "No. Of course, not," she evenly responds.

"Because, if there was," he continues, "you could tell me— or any staff member of your choosing. Coming forward is always the right choice."

"Which is why Audrey is taking me to court," Mal irritably replies, and then the instructor silences. "I'd really like to get back to work. Can I?"

He slowly nods, "Yes. You may." and not a moment later does Mal continue the assignment; however, after a minute the writing begins to really annoy her. The writing is slow— too slow— and she swears it's taking ten whole seconds to add a single letter. It's just one of the many lovely consequences of being cold, she knows, and normally she would start to feel an uneasiness— an ominous type of fear. However, today she simply takes it in, because she isn't afraid of her impending demise. In fact, she invites it. She knew it would happen. It was only a matter of time. She doesn't know how long it will take or how painful it will be when her time finally arrives, but what she does know is that when that time finally does come that the world will be better and brighter. It will be happier and more content without her. It will be safer. It will be safe from the monster that sucks the heat from the earth and ruins each and every life it comes into contact with.

* * *

"Good morning, Mal." She nods. "You're five minutes late."

She glances at the floor about to say sorry, as it seems to be custom to do when someone fails a teacher's expectations, but then she remembers Audrey. If she said sorry, would she be apologizing? If she apologized for being late, would she be promising never to be again? She looks back up at the instructor, "I know."

He nods, "Could you come closer, please? We need to discuss something." Mal slowly walks over to the front of his desk, and there's a short silence as she waits for him to speak. "You see, a couple of your teachers became concerned when I handed in your assignments. Your drawings… well, they appear to be a cry for help."

"What?" Mal scrunches her eyebrows in confusion.

"The doodles on your papers," the teacher elaborates. "The depictions are quite alarming."

"They're jus' drawings," she defends.

"And this?" he finds a graded paper and holds it up for her to see. "Is this just a drawing?" She sees the image of a hand holding a hook over a pair of wrists. "The green nail polish. Is this supposed to be you?"

Mal glances down at her own bright green nails, which are both chipped and faded due to a lack of care, "Could be."

"It's quite the disturbing image."

"It's a good thing, then, I guess, that I didn' take that art class Ben wanted me to," Mal comments softly through her tiredness.

The instructor gives her a suspicious look, "Are you alright? You seem to be slurring your words a little."

"Yeah," Mal slowly answers. "Jus' tired."

"So… you haven't been drinking?" he accuses.

She furrows her eyebrows at him for a minute, "That's illegal."

"Common alcohol is illegal," he corrects. "Wine and champagne on the other hand are still produced, and you do only need to be sixteen to purchase it."

"Hmm," she hums in interest. "That's nice to know."

"Are you sure that you haven't been drinking?" he asks again.

"Very sure." Mal slightly laughs, "I'm not allowed."

"What do you mean, you're not allowed?"

"My friends," Mal frowns as she glances down at the desk and trails off. "I'm not allowed."

When she looks back up the teacher speculates, "Your friends care about you a lot, don't they?" She merely nods. "What do you think they would say if they saw this drawing of yours?"

Mal takes a moment, "They'd want me to tell them about it."

The teacher nods, "And what about me? Would you like to tell me about it?" She shakes head. "Do you think that it's something I should know about?"

"No," she slowly answers. "It's jus' a drawing." The instructor quiets in thought. "Can I have my assignments now?"

He slightly nods, "Of course." before he finds the yellow, lined paper and gives it back to her along with her graded assignment.

After Mal receives the items she turns around and heads for the nearest desk, but when she sits down she finds herself wanting to do absolutely nothing. Maybe it's from a lack of energy, perhaps she just doesn't have the energy to move, or maybe the cold is just preventing her to. Whatever it is, she knows there's no use. So, she takes out the English novel, opens it up, and pretends to read; however, the entire time she finds herself slowly drifting to sleep.

* * *

\- Sorry If the flow of the chapter Isn't great. I had to use alt codes for the majority of It, and although I feel like I got faster with them, It's still going to slow the Entire process down In general. I was just so Inspired to write, though, and I just had to get this out to you guys.


	61. Without Complaint

**Without Complaint**

 **(Day 38: Tuesday Noon)**

"So," Carlos looks over the paper as he takes a bite out of the brownie. "What type of project should we do?"

Jay sighs as he glances at the sheet, "We already have to do an individual thing. Why do we have to do a partnered project too?"

"The individual project is to cover the unit. The group project is more of our end of semester test."

"But we're only a couple months into the semester," Jay complains. "Not even."

"Which is why we have all of these lovely options," Carlos counters before laughing. "Come on. We could build a diorama of a cell, do a presentation on how different species evolved and how it helped them survive— or we could even create our own virus and study the affect it has on lab rats."

Jay gives him a look, "Okay. Now you're just messing with me."

"No," Carlos innocently answers before pointing to the paper's example.

Jay's jaw drops, "I can't believe that's an actual option."

"It says to contact the teacher if we choose this one," he notices. "It probably has to be conducted in an actual lab for safety."

"Still," Jay disbelieves. "Right when I think I know this school…" He shakes his head.

"Yeah." Carlos smiles, "It's right up there with playing online games for extra credit." but his smile fades, as he sees Ben walk worriedly up to them.

"Have you seen Mal?"

"It's nice to see you too," Carlos replies.

"She has in-school-suspension," Jay answers.

"Okay," Ben begins, "but that doesn't explain why she isn't here."

"What?" Jay asks. "The suspension doesn't make her have lunch alone?" Ben shakes his head, and Jay lets out a stressed breath. "I don't know what to tell you. She hasn't shown up to any meals since she failed to apologize to Audrey."

"That long?" Ben disbelieves. "That's nearly two full days."

"She's gone longer without eating before. When we were younger she'd forget to, because nothing would actually fulfil her hunger." He eyes the table for a second, "And, of course, when she would eat it would only be things that tasted good. Otherwise, she wouldn't really bother."

"Does she still do that?" Ben questions. "Forget to eat?"

"Hmm, no," Jay contemplates. "In recent years she's been more focused on making sure she doesn't look like some twig someone could easily break, but it is possible that with everything that's been going on she hasn't cared as much about that."

"What do you mean?"

"She hasn't been taking care of herself," Jay explains, almost as though Ben is some child that should know better. "Before she apologized to Audrey I found out that she was cold, and she said she didn't care. But Evie told her to take a bath, so she should be better now."

"Clearly not that much better if she's not eating," Ben seriously replies. "Do you know which room her suspension is taking place?"

"No. I don't."

Ben looks over to Carlos, "What about you?"

He furrows his eyebrows at him, "Why are you asking me? Mal never tells me anything." Ben looks down, seemingly hopeless, before Carlos moves his hand back-and-forth a couple times in thought. "You know who would know, though? Evie. Mal tells her everything." Jay nudges him in the arm. "What? It's true." He looks back at Ben with a smile, "If anyone knows where Mal is, it's going to be Evie."

Ben nods, "Okay." but his excitement soon falters. "And where is Evie?"

"Her and Doug usually have lunch outside," Carlos answers

"But it's raining."

"Then check the kitchen," Carlos frustrates. "Do I have to think of everything?"

"Okay. I will," Ben answers, about to hurry off, but then he stops himself. "Thank you."

After they watch Ben leave, Carlos glances back down at the paper, "Now, for our project." and Jay groans in contempt of the assignment.

* * *

When Ben reaches the kitchen he finds Evie and Doug laughing over a pair of smoothies, but as he rushes up to them their expressions immediately fall to concern. "Evie. Do you know where Mal is?"

She raises an eyebrow, "Isn't she with the guys?"

"No. She isn't." He watches Evie eye her nearly full drink. "Which room is her suspension taking place in?"

Evie shrugs, "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Ben infuriates. "Carlos said you would know."

"Then just kill the messenger." Evie furrows her brows at him. "Don't go off on me."

Ben takes a large breath and attempts to release it to calm down, but his breath exits fast and he still finds himself to be shaky, "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about her."

"Well, I'm sorry," Evie inconveniences, "but Mal is a very secretive person. I know Carlos thinks she tells me everything, but just because she trusts me more than most people, that doesn't mean I know everything about her… Besides, for the last couple days she's been doing nothing but sleeping. I've barely had a chance to even talk to her."

Ben moves a hand to his forehead and then slides it to the back of his neck, before Doug comments, "I know she's your girlfriend and that Audrey's bringing her to court, but you shouldn't have to be this worried about her."

"I haven't seen or heard from her in two days, including texts, and she just attempted suicide a few days ago," Ben nearly yells. "I think I have the right to be worried."

Doug silences, and after a short glance Evie softly replies, "I'm sure she's fine. She probably just wants some space. People haven't exactly been giving her the easiest time."

"But from me?" Ben feels his eyes begin to burn with tears, "What did I do that she'd need space from me?"

"Oh, Ben," Evie sympathizes. "I'm sure you didn't do anything."

"Then why is she doing this?" he insists.

Evie glances down at the island table, silent for a moment, before she looks back up at him to explain, "When Mal takes heat from someone, like she tried to do with Audrey, it tends to be a very… well, an intimate kind of act." Ben stays quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I think that maybe she's been secluding herself from us, because she's afraid that with all that she's done… just that maybe she's afraid she made us feel the same way that Audrey feels."

Ben nods in understanding, but he stares at her for a second before asking, "What do you mean by 'us'?"

Evie nearly laughs through her frown, "Mal's my best friend. You honestly think that I wouldn't offer her heat if she really needed it?" Ben doesn't respond, as he remembers Mal asking if he would get jealous of Evie, a relationship she said he cared about, if he was already getting jealous of that guy she'd been with before— a relationship she claimed to have been nothing. "It doesn't really matter anymore. She has you." Ben hears her sadly laugh, "You're literally the hottest person she's ever met. You can take care of her now."

Ben shifts his eyes, "I don't want our relationship to be based purely on each other's body temperatures. I want more than that."

"And you will," Evie lets him know. "But she does have needs, and if you truly care about her, then satisfying those needs is just going to have to be part of the relationship. Because, there will come a time when she needs you, and when that happens her life will be in your hands." She smiles, "And when that time comes, I'm just going to have to trust you with her."

He opens his mouth to speak, but it takes him a minute to choose which part of her statement to respond to, "She has other heat sources. She has hot water, and she has that heat lamp now. She won't have to depend on me."

"No," Evie accepts, "but there will be times when those things aren't available, when the only heat source around will be you."

"Like when?" Ben questions.

She gives him a look, "Like on your first date with Mal when she got wet and cold, so you offered her your jacket." Evie watches the realization hit him. "She didn't have the courage to tell you it wouldn't do that much, thought it would come off as desperate or something."

"But she was," he acknowledges. "She needed heat, and all I gave her was a jacket."

"There's probably no way you could have known," Evie tries to reassure him, "but had it been worse and if she still didn't tell you what she needed, then she could have died." He stands still in shock. "It's times like that that you're going to have to recognize what she needs and give yourself up to her without complaint."

"Okay. Yeah. Give myself up willing," Ben agrees. "But I know about her now. Won't she just tell me if she needs me like that?"

"Not necessarily," Evie informs. "There are times when she will ask, but in general she's very stubborn, she doesn't like being seen as weak, and she absolutely hates depending on people. Just because she says she's fine, that doesn't always mean she is."

Ben nods, "I understand." before he glances towards the door. "Can you text me when she returns to your dorm, so I can at least know she's okay?"

Evie nods, "Yes. Of course."

He nods back, "Thank you" before he leaves the kitchen.

"Sooo." Evie turns back to Doug, as he squints his eyes unsurely and awkwardly asks, "When you said that it's intimate and that you offered her heat, does that mean that you two like… kissed or something?"

She smiles at him, "Why are you asking?"

"Well, I mean— It's just that I thought that, um… I mean, not that this was— because I was just trying to, you know— but what I mean to say is that I guess I was just hoping that one day you'd see me as something more than just someone to… talk to."

It takes a minute for Evie to reply, "If Mal were here, she'd tell you herself that you have nothing to worry about, that we're just friends— best friends— and that's all."

"Really?" Doug hopes.

"Well, I mean, no." She laughs, "First she'd tell you that no one can understand you when you fret like that and to stop it."

He glances down at the counter for a second, "Did you understand what I said?"

"Of course. You said that someday you'd like to be more than… what are we currently? Friends? Is that what we are right now?"

Doug slightly nods, "Yeah. Friends works."

Her smile widens, "You said that you'd like us to be more than friends one day."

"Is it a possibility, you think?" he asks unsurely.

"Well, you're no prince," Evie points out, "but you're awfully sweet. We'll see."

* * *

-So, I got a keyboard to connect to my laptop. I was excited at first, because it looked nice and the setup was waaay easier than I had anticipated (I thought it would be like Bluetooth or something complicated like that, but all I had to do was plug the chip in like a flashdrive). However. When I started to write, I came to the realization that I tend to use my left thumb for the spacebar. How did I find that out, you ask? Well, I found out when I kept trying to use the key and it wasn't working, because the key is placed just that far towards the right and tapping on the edge of it wasn't doing anything. I've gotten a little better at it, but I honestly don't know which I'm better at at this point: the new keyboard or the old alt codes. Also, speaking of alt codes, there is one that I will always still need to use— the em dash— and since the alt key is so far away from the number pad on the new keyboard, I'm no longer able to do that code with one hand. Since the characters have a tendency to either interrupt each other's or their own dialogue, I suspect that this will slow down my writing at least a little... unless, of course, at some point I can get used to it. Okay. That's all I wanted to say. You can laugh at my misery now. That's what it's here for.


	62. Right Through Me

**Right Through Me**

 **(Day 39: Wednesday Morning)**

"Mal. It's time to get up." Evie looks away from the mirror, as she finishes her makeup. "Mal!" There's still no response. Evie stands still for a moment before walking over to her, and then she reaches to shake her shoulder, "Mal?" She's cold to the touch. "Mal," Evie fearfully says as she shakes her hard, and when the groan is heard she sighs in relief. "Mal."

"What?" she tiredly complains.

"You're freezing. We need to get you warm."

"No."

Evie furrows her eyebrows, "What do you mean, no?"

Mal merely grumbles, but when Evie pulls her into more of an upright position and places a hand to her neck Mal says, "Don't."

"I'm not letting you do this to yourself," Evie sternly responds, before she places her other hand to Mal's cheek and gives her a long kiss; however, after the minute passes she breaks apart from her and lets out a shaky breath, as she shivers from the cold.

Mal gives her a stern look, underlying with concern, "You can't give your heat to me. I'm hurting you."

"You're right," Evie lets out softly in acceptance. "You've gone too far. I don't have enough for you."

Mal watches Evie pull out her cellphone, "What are you doing?"

"Considering how cold you are, that I don't have enough heat for you, and that I'm pretty sure I remember reading somewhere that heat lamps and hot baths can actually cause a heart attack for someone with hypothermia, I have no other choice. I'm calling Ben."

"No."

"Yes," Evie insists as she pulls up his contact info and calls him. "Hey. Ben."

"Hi, Evie."

She pauses for a second, "Are you eating something?"

"I'm at breakfast," he confirms.

"Right," Evie tries to ignore. "Look. You know how I said at some point Mal would need you? Well, she needs you."

"What?" Ben asks as he sets his toast down and glances at Doug. "You mean now?"

"Yes, now," Evie frustrates. "We're in our room. Get up here now."

After the call ends Ben stands from the table and puts the phone back into his pocket, "I've got to go." before he runs out of the cafeteria.

* * *

When Evie hears the knock she opens the door, "You actually showed."

"Of course I showed," Ben irritably replies as he walks in. "How is she?"

"Tired. Cold." Evie sincerely informs, "I'm pretty sure she did this on purpose."

He looks from Evie to Mal, before he walks over to his girlfriend and kneels down beside her; however, when his hand runs down from her hair to her cheek she tiredly comments, "Don't give me anything."

"Mal." He tries to reason, "Heat is a necessity. Everyone needs it."

"And I'm just the monster that takes it by force."

He assures her, "You're not forcing me to do anything."

"The world would be better off without me," she insists.

"And what about me?" he counters. "Do you honestly think I'd be better off without you in my world?"

"Yes," she simply states. He doesn't know what else he could possibly say, but as he sees her tears he feels he must at least say something. "I've heard the things that they've been calling you. Gullible. Naive."

"And none of it means a thing," he quickly responds. "Because it's not true."

It takes a moment for her to respond, "I wish I were so sure."

He takes her hand and finds it to be freezing cold, "I need you in my life."

"Why?"

Ben pauses. The truth is he hasn't thought much about it himself, "Because… Because I feel connected to you. Because you feel and understand things that I've never been able to explain before. Because…" He looks into her eyes, "You make me feel more complete, happy, and understood than I've ever felt before." He places a hand to her cheek. "It's like you can see right through me, that I can be open with you without saying a single word."

Evie turns on Maleficent's heat light and covers the terrarium with a sheet, "I'm just going to give you two some privacy." before she heads for the door.

Ben glances over for a second, before he returns his attention to Mal, "I don't want to offer you heat just because I'd feel guilty if you died. I also want to do it, because you've done so much for me and because I don't want my life to go back to the way it was before I met you." She stays quiet, but Ben can see the awe in her expression. "Please, let me help you. Trust me. I have more than enough heat for the both of us."

She nods, "Okay."

Ben slightly smiles, "Okay." but then comments in uncertainty. "Uh. How do we do this, exactly?"

Mal smiles back, placing her hand on his neck and putting his onto hers, "Like this." before she moves in and kisses him.

* * *

When Ben exits the room Evie smiles at him in surprise, "Done already? You're a fast one, aren't you?"

"Well, it's just that we have classes," he defends.

"Uh-hmm." Evie hums.

"We just went for a more efficient approach this time," he tries to explain. "With the limited time, you know— under normal circumstances—"

"Ben," Evie laughs. "It's okay. I'm just teasing you."

"Oh," Ben straightens his back. "Right. Of course." He pretends to clear his throat, "So, ah… How long do you think it will take her to get ready?"

"Mal?" Evie questions. "I mean, she's not exactly the girliest girl, is she? No. She'll probably see what time it is, pick out the first clean thing she can find, brush her teeth, and then comb her hair. The ushe."

"So, not that long," Ben answers.

"Nope."

Ben nods, and the two remain quiet for a minute; however, soon enough Ben finds himself thinking of what other people will say. "You know, I actually ran here."

"Really?" Evie comments, "Good. I'm glad you took it seriously."

"Yeah," Ben starts, and then Evie gives him a questioning look. "It's just, what do I tell people if they ask why I was running or where I was running to?"

"Tell them your girlfriend needed you."

"And if they ask for details?" he unsurely questions.

She furrows her eyebrows at him, "Then tell them it's none of their damn business. What? You're not one of those guys who go around talking about their scores, are you?"

"What?" His eyes widen at the realization, "Oh! No. No. Of course not."

"Good." Evie holds her head up high, "Because Mal deserves so much better than that."

Ben notices her protective stance, "I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her. You have to know that."

Evie looks back at him, nodding as she shuts her eyes for a second, "Yeah. I know." and when the door opens from behind them they turn around.

Mal looks between the two of them suspiciously, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Ben smiles, "Evie was just about to tell me that if I hurt you in any way, then she'd have to kill me." He looks at the best friend, "Or, at least that's what I presume."

Evie smiles back, "What can I say? Mal's my girl."

Mal widely grins as she laughs with unease, "Hey. Don't we have classes to attend or something?" They're attention is brought back to her. "'Cause I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure that if I'm late for suspension, I'll get into even more trouble."

"Of course," Ben nods. "But first things first." He glances between the two of them, before he turns to Mal, "My parents got a call back from the lawyer. A meeting has been set up for tomorrow afternoon." He gestures with his hands, "Your attendance, it's mandatory."

Mal frowns, "What time?"

"I'll meet you here after classes. The driver will pick us up out front."

Mal nods, "Okay."

* * *

-So, what do you think of the interactions between Ben and Evie these last two chapters? Personally, I really like the part where he gets all defensive on being 'fast'. I can only imagine how much more defensive he would have been had it more than just kissing and stuff. I also really like the part where Ben has to explain why he likes Mal so much, because, I mean, I couldn't just continue having it seem like he's obsessed with her for no reason (let's face it. The writing I've had so far does make it seem as though Mal is getting a lot more out of the relationship than he is, considering all of her baggage and everything). Anyway, I'm loving your comments. Keep them going.


	63. The Lawyer

**The Lawyer**

 **(Day 40: Thursday Afternoon)**

When Ben walks Mal up to the front doors he comments, "Just be honest, and there shouldn't be any issues." before he escorts her through the front doors of his castle. Immediately, she notices Ben's parents sitting with a dark-brown haired man in the sitting area, as they look at her and she's guided towards them. The man stands, and Ben points his arm out towards him, "Mal. This is our lawyer, Mr. Droit." before he places his arm around Mal and gestures to her. "Mr. Droit, this is my girlfriend Mal."

The blue eyed man takes a few steps forward and smiles as he outstretches his hand, "It's nice to meet you."

Mal glances at the hand unsurely and doesn't take it; however, when she looks back up at him she manages a slight smile, "It's nice to meet you too."

Ben sees the lawyer's smile falter and turns towards his girlfriend, "Mal. It's okay. You can shake his hand." She looks at him but stays silent. "Please. It's customary." Mal shuts her eyes for a second as she nods, before she shakes the lawyer's hand once and quickly pulls away. "I'm sorry." Ben explains, "Since the whole incident she's been reluctant to touch anyone." He eyes the floor for a moment, "Even me."

Mr. Droit nods, "It's okay. I understand." before he returns his attention to Mal. "Why don't we sit down, so I can ask you some questions?" Mal merely nods with a tense smile, and soon enough they sit down around the circular, white stone table. "I understand you don't remember much from the incident. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Mal answers as she eyes the dark red rug. "Up until I talked with the headmistress in her office I only remembered enough to think I talked with Audrey… filled in the blanks."

"How often do you fill in these blanks?" he questions.

Mal shakes her head, "No one would really know, would they. It just happens." and it takes a moment for her to think it over. "I don't think it happens often. Usually when I'm like that I'm still left with a feeling after I start to feel better. There's usually images linked with that feeling." She pauses as she remembers those times with Evie back on the Isle. "This time, though… I don't know. Maybe I was too tired or stressed to be left with any significant feelings of what happened that night."

"Which would only leave you with the images," Mr. Droit dissects.

Mal looks down for a second, "If I had a feeling to go along with the little pieces I do remember, then I probably could have known what I did… but I don't."

"Unfortunately," the lawyer states, "the case is going to be more focused on the act itself. What will matter is the state of mind you had during the incident, whether it was purposeful at the time, not your current memory of it; although, saying you regret it may help your case."

Mal looks at him sadly, "In the video I said I wanted to do it. How could anyone believe I regret it happening?"

"A crime of passion," he answers. "People find themselves doing things impulsively all the time, only for them to regret it later."

Ben huffs, "That just makes it sound like she attacked Audrey for being my ex."

"Which is something the jury may consider at first," Mr. Droit comments. "I saw the video myself, and in it Mal does appear quite vengeful."

"Yeah," Ben defends, "because her heat source became limited as a direct result of the event Audrey was hosting."

"Or maybe your girlfriend needed an excuse to go after your ex," the lawyer debates before turning to Mal. "I'm not saying you did, but unless we give them a reason to believe otherwise the jury may very well think these things."

When Mal and Ben give the lawyer a look of disbelief Adam comments, "He's right." and then they turn to him. "Mal… You're a hybrid and the jury is just going to be a panel of humans. They already have a reason to fear you."

"Because of my genetics?" Mal painfully grins. "How is that fair?"

"It's not," Adam lowers his head and takes an irritable breath. "I'm sorry. It's just the way things are."

"It also means," the lawyer informs, "that if Mal is charged, then when they put her away they will probably keep her away from the other inmates. In fact, they would want to keep her away from all people in general."

"Even visitors?" Ben questions.

"Especially visitors," he seriously replies.

Ben shakes his head, "No. She needs to be able to get heat. She won't survive that."

"Which is why we have no choice but to plead not guilty at the initial hearing on Tuesday and to do everything we can to make sure she doesn't get a prison sentence at all."

He sadly laughs, "And how are we supposed to do that, exactly?"

Mr. Droit turns to Mal, "The Isle of the Lost was a very different place, wasn't it?"

"Very," Mal smiles.

"Would you say that the laws they had there, the things you experienced, and the things you were taught there are very different from what you've known here?" he inquires.

"I mean, yeah. Of course."

He smiles, "Tell me, what kind of laws do they have on the island?"

"Well." Mal hesitates, "We didn't really have laws. There's things there that are frowned upon, unspoken rules to be followed, but none of it was written down or really punished for."

He nods, "I'm going to give you some words that I want you to define, and I want you to define them as you knew them at the time of the incident."

Mal nods, "Okay."

"Tell me, what is the definition of assault?"

Mal looks down at the table and sees the drinks that lie before him and Ben's parents, "On the Isle that word wasn't really seen as bad. It was used very loosely, usually as an order to beat someone who failed to pay up… or even just a physical fight with someone."

"What about physical assault?" the lawyer asks.

She gives him a questioning look, "Wouldn't that just be that same thing?"

"Assault is a general term," he explains. "There are different kinds of it. But yes, the definition you gave before would more or less match the definition of physical assault." Mal merely nods in understanding. "What about sexual assault?"

Mal is quiet for a long moment, "I didn't know what that term was until Ben used it. I assumed it to be forcing yourself onto someone sexually, but we didn't have any terminology like that on the Isle."

"What about rape?" he questions. "Do you know what that is?"

"Yeah," Mal begins. "Um, it's when someone preys on someone younger and forces them to have sex with them."

It takes a few seconds for the lawyer to reply, "You say there has to be an age difference. How much of an age difference are you speaking of?"

"Well, it's usually at least a few years apart," Mal answers slowly in suspicion.

It takes another minute for the lawyer to comment, "What you are speaking of is not rape. The definition you gave would be much closer to pedophilia, in which someone older preys on someone younger and forces some kind of sexual activity, as you said."

"What?" Mal partly smiles in unsureness. "I— I don't think I understand."

"Mal," Belle begins, and when she turns to her she finds Ben and his parents all giving her fairly grim, shocked expressions. "The only requirement there really is for rape is that the sex is unconsensual. It doesn't matter how old the two people are. It doesn't even matter whether they're strangers or best friends. If they have sex and if one of the participants didn't want it to happen, then that's rape."

Mal lets out a long breath, finding her mouth slightly agape as she stares down at the floor. "Mal?"

She hears Ben's worry, "I'm just taking it in… processing. These definitions are different than I thought they were." Once she had heard of the term sexual assault, she had connected it with Hook; however, she never even considered that what he did could have been something as horrible as rape. Everyone had called her a tease when she had refused to go any further with him, and then when it finally happened they acted like it was no big deal. _It was going to happen anyway. You know, eventually_. Could this be why it always felt so wrong to her in the first place? She looks back up at Belle, "You said it didn't matter if it were strangers or best friends, but what about people who are already in that kind of relationship."

"I lot of people don't know this," Belle looks down for a second, "but even if two people are married and one of them acts without some kind of expressed consent from their partner, then technically speaking that would too be rape." Mal frowns as she contemplatively nods. "Is there a reason why you asked me that?"

"Oh, ah, no." Mal tries to smile, "I just figured that since I was learning what it was anyway that I might as well learn it correctly." before she turns back to the lawyer. "Do you have any more words for me to define?"

"No." He folds his hands, "I think those are all that will be relevant in this case."

"Soo… What do we do now that I've failed your little test?" Mal asks.

Mr. Droit smiles, "I'd hardly say that you failed. In fact, I think you passed with flying colors." Mal gives him a questioning look. "We can use this. Your lack of knowledge of our law and these terms at the time of the incident, we can use it. There's no reason for them to give you a hard sentence if you were unaware there was a law to be broken in the first place."

Mal nods, feeling just the least bit hopeful, but then Ben interrupts, "What if they bring up objective morality?"

Mal looks between Ben and the lawyer, as Mr. Droit sighs with stress, "What does objective morality mean?"

The lawyer takes a deep breath before explaining, "It's the concept that all people inherently know the difference between right and wrong, either by the instruction of God or by the want to better their species and survive." He folds his hands, "However, since you come from the Isle of the Lost, a place considered to be Godless, and since you aren't entirely human, I doubt they will expect you to have it… at least, not for humans."

"Isn't that almost worse?" Ben worries. "If they're not going to see her as anything other than a Godless animal preying on humans, isn't that a bad thing?"

"For some things, yes," the lawyer agrees. "Then again, comparing her to someone who's entirely human would make the jury believe her to be able to meet unrealistic expectations… like not having to go out searching for heat when the hot water goes out, for instance."

Ben nods, "Okay. I suppose you do have a point there."

"Luckily for us," the lawyer continues, "by definition hybrids are partly human, which means that they can't just put her down like some rabid animal."

"Which she isn't," Ben insists.

"No. She isn't," the lawyer agrees, "but since the jury is going to be biased towards humans, we need to make Mal look as innocently human as possible for the hearing."

"Meaning what?" Mal questions. "I've passed for human pretty well up until this point. What would I possibly have to change?"

"You may have been able to pass for human before, but now that people know you aren't, it will be our job to make the judges forget that you aren't."

"Excuse me," Adam interrupts, and Mr. Droit turns towards him. "How do you plan to make the jury forget she's a hybrid when the entire case revolves around an incident she did as a hybrid? And didn't you just say that if they compare her to humans, then she'd be met with unrealistic expectations?"

"That's all true," the lawyer tries to reason, "but Mal is going to have hard enough a time pleading innocent the way it is. She is a feared hybrid dragon, daughter of the most evil villain to have ever lived, taking on the accusations of a well-known, very respected royal princess."

"We know that," Ben frustrates.

"Look," the lawyer tries to explain. "The jury… they're not going to believe her over Audrey if all they see her as is a hybrid. They need to see her as human in order to sympathize, and then— and only then— will we stand a chance."

"What do I have to do?" Mal asks, before she notices the others calm down a little.

"At the very least you're going to have to do what humans already do," he calmly answers. "Blue is considered a very sympathetic color, so wear it on Tuesday. Also, considering the content of this case, try not to dress provocatively at all."

"Provocatively?" Mal questions.

"He's asking you not to wear something that would show a lot of skin or cleavage," Ben interprets for her, before he looks back at the lawyer. "Don't worry. From what I've seen, she usually dresses pretty conservatively."

He nods, "Good."

Ben returns his attention to Mal and advises, "Although, you should probably find something that's not leather. They could interpret it as you being emotionally hard or defiant."

Mal frowns, "Evie has a lot of blue, frilly things. If I can't find anything, then I'm sure I can just borrow something from her."

When Mal looks back at the lawyer he continues, "Now, I'm going to run you through what will happen at the initial hearing." He clasps his hands together. "The hearing will be very brief. We will sit down, they will confirm who you are, ask you about your past criminal history and possibly your living situation, and then as per requirement they will ask for your species. Since you are a hybrid, you will have to give them a detailed description of your lineage. After that they will tell us the charges of which you have been accused, and then they will ask us to either plead guilty or not guilty. As we've already discussed, we have to go for the non-guilty verdict. Even if we're offered a plea deal, I doubt we would be able to accept it."

Mal nods, "Anything else?"

He hesitates, "I need to ask you, aside from Audrey have you ever assaulted anyone before?"

Mal tries to think over everything she's ever done, and although a lot of it was cruel, she doesn't think any of it would actually be considered assault, "Not to my knowledge."

"Don't say 'not to my knowledge'," the lawyer warns. "It's seen as suspicious. You have to be able to say no."

She looks down for a moment, "What if something else happened that I don't remember? And there are things my mother made me do." She turns her head back up, "What if they find those things and blame them on me?"

"Hopefully they won't," he evenly replies. "However, if you currently don't recall anything you did without being forced to, then you need to be confident that you didn't."

Mal nods, "Okay."

"Say it," the lawyer prompts. "Have you ever hurt anyone in the same way that you've hurt Audrey? Have you ever assaulted anyone prior to your attack on her?"

"No," Mal answers.

The lawyer slightly smiles, "Better. Just stay confident. You're a good person. You have to believe that you are, if you want to convince the judges that you are."

Mal looks down again, knowing perfectly well that she doesn't consider herself to be a good person and that with everything she's done she probably never will. She moves a hand over her thigh, remembering each scar she currently has with detail. Each one is proof of what a horrible person she is. The lawyer's wrong. She's not good, and no matter how hard she tries she may never truly be good; however, he is right about one thing. If she wants the jury to believe she's a good, innocent, and harmless person, then she's going to have to at least act like she believes she is too, "Okay."

* * *

\- So, no. This wasn't the type of meeting that at least one of you wanted; however, thank you very much **Elizabeth Annette** for your comment, because you did give me an idea for a chapter... I mean, two royal families backing opposite ends of a lawsuit? You would think they'd like to talk about it at some point, so that their alliance doesn't completely fall apart. Right? I have a few good ideas on what the stemming results of that could be.


	64. If You Really Cared

**If You Really Cared**

 **(Day 41-42: Friday Evening- Saturday Morning)**

"Soo," Carlos starts as he and Jay sit down at the table with some Gatorade. "You know that holiday on the calendar that happens tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Jay slowly replies. "What about it?"

"So, Jane told me all about it, and I think the holiday is kind of interesting."

"You do?" Jay doubts. "A holiday dedicated to people who are dating, and you find that interesting when you're still single?"

"Oh," Carlos comments. "So, you do know about it."

Jay leans back in his chair, "Personally, I think I'm really going to hate this weekend, all of the couples being couply and all of the singles trying to find an exclusive, permanent partner." before he takes a sip from his red drink. "Why are you bringing this up, anyway?"

"I know that we're not actually a thing or anything," Carlos eyes the table as he explains, "but I was just thinking that maybe we could do something special anyway"

"Special how?" Jay questions suspiciously. "Like go out to a movie or something?"

"No. Of course, not," he defends before looking back up at him. "Just that maybe with the things we already do… that maybe we could make it more interesting?"

Jay frowns at him for a minute, "You're asking me to hurt you again, aren't you?" and when Carlos fails to respond Jay shakes his head in frustration. "We've talked about this. I don't like to hurt people, and I especially don't want to hurt someone I care about."

"But I want you to," Carlos defies. "It's different if I want it." Jay places a hand to his forehead. "Come on. You've been so agonizingly careful with me since you found out. You're not even doing the small things you used to do anymore."

"Yeah," Jay frustrates, lowering his arm down onto the table. "Because when someone I care about tells me I've been hurting them, I stop."

"If you really cared about me," he nearly yells, "then you would hurt me."

Jay looks at him for a long minute, trying to calm down and put his thoughts into order, "The way your mother treated you, that's not how people treat the ones they care about." He stresses, "You hear me? She never cared about you. She never loved you. What she did was wrong. You have to know that."

"I don't care." Carlos feels his face warm up, and his next words are unsteady, "I still want it, and I want you to be able to be the one to do it."

Jay shuts his eyes and lets out an irritable breath, "Okay. We can try something."

"Really?" Carlos almost smiles.

"But not this weekend," Jay stresses. "I want to learn more about this stuff first."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Jay says as he stands from the table. "No. Seriously. Don't mention it. If you do, I might just change my mind." Carlos nods. "Can you offer any tips on researching?"

Carlos smiles, "Only type key words into the search engine. If you ask it a direct question, it's just going to be searching for the word 'what' first."

"Okay. I'll remember that."

Carlos laughs, "Good luck."

* * *

The next day Ben grins when the door opens, "Good morning."

"Ugh." Mal complains, "It's like eight A.M."

"I'm sorry." Ben recognizes, "I know I should have probably let you sleep in for another hour or two, but I come bearing gifts." He takes a large, heart-shaped box out from behind his back, "Well… one gift actually, but these chocolates do have multiple flavors that I think you may enjoy, including but not limited to strawberry cream."

Mal smiles as she takes the red box, "What's the occasion?"

"Well, it's Valentine's Day," he reminds her.

"Oh. Yeah… I'm been meaning to look that up." She looks over her shoulder, "Eves. Do you know what Valentine's Day is?"

"Not particularly," Evie answers. "But a girl did stop by last week wanting me to make her a dress for some date she's going on, and she should be picking it up this afternoon."

"It's a holiday for couples, for them to spend time together." Mal returns her attention to him, "Sorry. I should have assumed that villains don't celebrate a lot of holidays."

"Well, so long as there's strawberry chocolates," Mal says as she cuts the plastic off with her fingernail, before she opens the box and eats one. "Then I can find myself celebrating this holiday more often."

Ben smiles, "I have a lot of homework and documents to work on today, unfortunately, but I'd really like us to spend some time together when I'm finished."

"Sure," Mal smiles. "What time?"

"How about I pick you up for dinner around six, afterwards we can watch a movie together, and then— if you'd like— you could stay over for the night?"

Mal notices his unsure expression, as he rubs his hands together nervously, "By spend the night together, do you mean just spending the night together or do you mean 'spend the night together'?"

Ben sees the air quotes and laughs, "Nothing so daring, I promise. I mean, if you wanted to do something, then we could, but I really just want to spend some time with you." He sees her hesitance. "I know that we've only just started dating and that this may be a little forward, but with the trial coming up and everything… I just want one night where I can be next to you, hold you, and not be afraid that you'd be taken away from me."

Mal nods in understanding, but then she remembers, "What about your roommate?"

"Doug?" Ben questions. "He can stay with someone else tonight." He gestures, "What about Jay and Carlos?"

"Jay and Carlos?" Mal uneasily laughs. "You want Doug to stay with them?"

"You make it sound like such a horrible idea," he replies insecurely.

"No. It's not that." Mal tries to explain, "They just really like their privacy. I don't know if they'd be up for it."

Ben smiles, "Well, it can't hurt to ask."

Mal fakes a grin, "No. I suppose it can't."

"So, you will spend the night with me?" he asks again.

"Yeah," Mal slightly nods. "I'd be okay with that."

"And six o'clock works for dinner?" he questions.

"Yes."

"Good." He kisses her goodbye on the cheek, "See you then— Make sure to dress nice."

* * *

\- So, what do you think of our ships? Any predictions? If so, I'd love to hear them.


	65. Even Better than That

**Even Better than That**

 **(Day 42: Saturday Morning)**

"Hey. What's up?"

Evie looks from the red dress up to Carlos, "What? You don't knock?"

"Sorry," he slowly answers as he walks into the room. "Mal is off exploring the kingdom with Jay. I didn't think you would be doing anything."

"That's besides the point," she furrows her eyebrows at him, before she lets out a calming breath and shakes her head. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm bored," he complains.

"And you can't entertain yourself with homework and videogames?" Carlos doesn't respond, and she looks over at him again. "Look. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I need to finish this dress before this afternoon, and the final details are just so hard to get when she isn't here to model it."

"I'm sorry." He turns around, "I'll just go, then."

Evie eyes him over, "Hold on." before she stands up and he turns back around. "How tall are you?"

He gives her a questioning look, "Five feet, six inches."

"Perfect," Evie smiles. "You should come over here and model this for me."

His jaw drops, "Uh-nah. No way."

"Come on, Carlos," Evie pleads. "My business is already tanking, since… well, since what happened." She smiles hopefully, "It would mean the world to me."

"No. Absolutely not," he insists, and then Evie frowns, eyeing the floor for a second. "I look enough like a girl the way it is. I don't need to be wearing some stupid dress too."

She looks back up at him sadly, "You think my dress is stupid?"

"No," Carlos sighs. "It's beautiful… I just don't want to wear it."

It's quiet for a moment, until Evie asks, "What if I pay you ten dollars?"

Carlos hesitates, "How long would I be doing this, exactly?"

Evie shrugs, "Anywhere between fifteen and forty-five minutes."

He lets out an irritable breath, "Make it fifteen dollars and we have a deal."

* * *

"Chad. What are you doing?"

"What I should have done in the first place," he answers as he turns to his girlfriend. "Defending you."

"Chad. I'm fine," Audrey insists, but he just keeps walking down the hallway. "You don't have to do this." She grabs hold of his arm, "Please. They have magic. You can't possibly fight them."

He widens his eyes in question, "You doubt me?"

"No," she softly lets out. "Of course, not. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

He shakes his head and continues forward, "I'm not the one that's going to get hurt."

* * *

Carlos grumbles as he looks down over the ruffles of the mini-dress, "I look like a rose."

"Yeah," Evie smiles as she stitches the clear and white glass beads onto the smooth fabric. "You even have the thorns."

He glances down at his hairy legs, "How much longer is this going to take?"

"I only have two more layers to do. Be patient."

"I don't want to be patient," Carlos complains as he goes to itch his arm, but the fishnet sleeve prevents him from doing so. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

"What can I say?" Evie slightly laughs. "I'm very persuasive."

Carlos shakes his head in response, before the door opens wide to reveal Chad and Audrey. Evie stands from her knees and yells, "Doesn't anyone know how to knock?" but then she sees who it is. "What are you doing here?"

It takes a minute for Chad to answer, "I'm here to defend my girlfriend from the evil, dragon hybrid Mal." He glances around the room. "Where is she?"

Evie rolls her eyes, "She's out with Jay." and she narrows her eyes at him. "And the fact that you chose to record your girlfriend getting attacked instead of attempting to defend her isn't going to change. You should have done that when you had the chance."

"Wait," Audrey steps in. "Did you just say that Mal is out with Jay right now?"

"Uh, yeah." Evie raises a hand, "And?"

"And she's dating Ben," Audrey debates. "She shouldn't be going off around with some other guy."

Evie laughs, "Wow. That's rich coming from you." and then Audrey frowns. "That's right. I know all about how you betrayed Ben. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Well, in that case, so should Mal," she retorts.

"Mal and Jay are just friends."

"A guy and a girl can never be 'just friends'," Audrey strongly denies.

Evie inwardly laughs as a grin appears on her face, and she places a hand on her friend's shoulder, "You hear that, Carlos? A guy and a girl can never be just friends." before she leans over and kisses his cheek.

"Ewe. Don't do that," Carlos comments in disgust as he wipes at the spot with his hand. "I think you got lip-gloss on my face."

Evie turns back to the two intruders, and Audrey silences; however, Chad scrunches his face at the situation, "What's up with the dress?"

"I paid him to model it for me," Evie immediately answers. "He needed the money."

Chad starts to smile, "This is too perfect." before he takes out his phone.

Audrey lets out an irritable breath, "I thought you wanted to come here to make them pay, not to take pictures."

"Oh," Chad mischievously replies. "This will make them pay."

Carlos brings his left hand to his face, both in embarrassment and in a terrible attempt to hide himself from the camera, before Evie yells at them, "Stop that and get out of here." He doesn't stop, and she steps out in front of Carlos, "I said leave."

Audrey reaches for Chad's arm, "Maybe we should go."

"Why would we do that?" he laughs. "She's just a witch. She can't do magic." His smile falters, as he looks back at the blue haired girl, "Can you?"

"No," Evie answers, as she spots the magic mirror trying to get her attention. "I have something even better than that." She walks over to the glowing object and picks it up off of the bedside table, before she centers herself in front of the door. "This."

"What? Your mirror?" Chad tries to play it off. "You said all it did was find things."

"Oh," Evie maliciously grins. "It does so much more than that. It can find people too, and it can show me your darkest secrets." She sees the horror on their faces, "For now, though…" She holds the mirror up towards them, and then a bright light is released. The two intruders try to block it out with their arms, but eventually they have no other choice but to leave and shut the door behind them. Evie looks down at the mirror, "Thank you, very much."

"That's super weird," Carlos slowly comments.

Evie turns around and sees his expression, "What is?"

"Well. First off," Carlos slightly laughs with unease. "Aren't you supposed to have to rhyme or something for it to work?"

Evie laughs back, "Oh. No. Not at all. The mirror just likes it when I do that."

"The mirror likes it?" Carlos repeats.

"Yeah," she answers, her smile fading. "What's wrong with that?"

"Mirrors are inanimate objects," Carlos frustrates. "They don't have likes or dislikes. They don't have feelings."

Evie sees the red smoke appear inside the mirror and glances down at it, before she stares back up at Carlos, "You happy now? You upset it." She watches him eye the mirror. "It did us a great favor by getting that jerk and his skank out of here. I think you need to apologize."

When Evie holds the mirror up in front of him Carlos stares at it for a minute, before he takes a deep breath and calmly says, "I'm sorry." The smoke doesn't disappear. "I didn't mean to call you inanimate or to imply that you don't have feelings." _This is ridiculous_. The smoke fades and Carlos's mouth slightly drops, surprised that it actually worked.

Evie smiles, "Good. Now everyone is happy."

"Ah, no. Not me," Carlos denies. "I want to get out of this dress." Evie bends her head down as she laughs. "It's not funny. Chad posts literally everything. The entire school is going to see me in this thing."

She smiles at him, "Then ten more minutes won't hurt, will it?" He grumbles. "Come on. I'll give you an extra five dollars for your trouble."

* * *

\- Nice chapter, huh? It's a little different than I normally do in regards to the breaks and going back-and-forth between characters/scenes, but I almost think that it makes it a little more dramatic. What do you think?


	66. A Life to Live

**A Life to Live**

 **(Day 42: Saturday Noon)**

"I can't believe how put together all of these shops looked so far," Jay comments as they walk down the sidewalk.

"Yeah," Mal frowns in response. "Ben said something about how small businesses get some kind of government benefits."

"Government benefits?" Jay questions.

Mal smiles, "I don't know. Once he realized he started talking about work, he ended up apologizing and just asked me about… well, me." Jay nods, and it's quiet as they eye the area over. "I didn't realize how bad the Isle had it before."

Jay grimly laughs, "Yeah. I sure know that my father's shop could have used some government benefits." Mal stays quiet, and he looks at her. "What is it?"

She shrugs it off, "Nothing."

"No." Jay grabs hold of her shoulder and they stop, "It's not nothing."

Mal is quiet, before she takes a big breath and swallows hard, "It's because of our economy that I had to depend on Hook in the first place."

"What?"

"Can't you see it?" Mal sadly asks. "Those untouchable gangs controlling the majority of the money on the island, investing it into businesses, and the farther the money trickled down, the less there was." She laughs, "And I kept investing in his business. I kept going to that place to pay for heat, until one day the people I was stealing from didn't have anything left and I became broke."

"Mal," he moves his hand down to her arm. "It's not like you had a lot of other options."

"No. I know," Mal glances down at the concrete. "But still. I shouldn't have done it… I should have tried something else."

"Hey." He lowers himself enough to see her face, "We talked about it. You knew he was your only option left."

She looks at him, "And you told me to take it."

Jay straightens himself back up and Mal's eyes follow him, but it still takes him a minute to reply, "I don't know what exactly happened between you two… but I can tell the experience has affected you. And—" He looks away, "I would like to tell you that if I had the chance to go back to that conversation that I'd tell you not to do it." before he peers back down at her. "Honestly, though… I don't know what else you could have done. Aside from getting the heat from me, obviously, but we both agreed that would have been too weird."

"I know," Mal frowns. "And I'm not blaming you. I just—" She shakes her head, "I really wish I never had to depend on him like that… it changed everything for me." and when she looks back up she sees it.

"Mal?" Jay questions, as he sees her gaze past him. She doesn't answer, "What is it?" and when he turns around to see for himself she moves right past him; however, he follows right behind her.

"I haven't seen a place like this since I got her," Mal comments, as they halt in front of the store.

Jay sees the sign, "It must be easy to ignore something when it isn't around to be seen." Mal slightly nods. "What are you thinking right now?"

Mal turns to him and slightly smiles, "I'm wondering if wine tastes better than moonshine." She sees his disappointment, "What? I thought I was supposed to be honest."

"You are," Jay insists, "and I'm glad you are. It's just—" He huffs and shakes his head, "Mal. You haven't had a drink in almost two years. You can't stop now, not just because things are getting hard."

She nods, "Yeah. I know."

He stares into her eyes, "Promise me."

It takes her a moment to say, "I won't." and she glances at the ground for a second; however, she looks back up at him, "I swear, I won't." and he seems to calm a little.

"Come on." He takes her wrist, "I think I saw a sandwich shop over there."

* * *

When Mal and Jay enter the shop he sees the menu hanging over the back wall, "Twelve inch subs are six dollars. We could get one of those."

She looks at him, "What's a sub?"

"A substitute sandwich," Jay guesses.

Mal looks over at a couple people in the booth, "Or maybe it's supposed to look like a submarine?" Jay looks over to where she's staring, and then she shrugs.

"Whatever it is," Jay comments, "it seems like a good deal. We're getting it."

"I only have four dollars," Mal frowns.

"Don't worry about it. I can pay for one, and then we can split it in half."

"Jay," Mal begins.

"Seriously," he interrupts. "I can pay." He grins as he gestures, "You would not believe the kind of change the people at our school keep lying around."

She huffs, "You're honestly not still stealing, are you?"

He hesitates, "Is it still stealing if I find it on the floor?"

"No. I suppose not"

"Well, there you go, then," he responds before moving forward in line.

Mal feels people staring at her, and as she glances around she finds them quickly turning back to their meals, "Maybe we shouldn't have gone out today."

Jay looks over the room and notices the same thing, before he whispers to Mal, "Don't worry about them. They're more afraid of you than you are of them."

She doesn't know what to say, "I have a bad feeling about this."

They take a couple steps forward, and Jay places a hand on her arm, "You're just taking one day to look around and enjoy yourself, before whatever happens when court happens. There's nothing wrong with that."

Mal takes in a deep breath, and then she lets it go as she nods, "Right. I'm just taking a walk and grabbing a bite to eat, just like anyone else my age will probably be doing today."

He smiles, "That's right." but then they find themselves walking up to the counter.

When Mal looks up she can see the fright in the employee's expression, as he merely stares at her with wide brown eyes and his mouth gapes slightly. Looking behind him, she can also see the woman in the back eyeing her carefully. "What are you doing here?"

Jay answers, "We'd like to buy a sub." as he points up at the board.

"I'm sorry." The employee unsteadily replies, "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're scaring away the customers."

"We're customers," Jay complains. "And all these people have done is stare at us. None of them have even stood up yet."

"I have to disagree," he states before nodding towards the door. "Now leave— Or I'll call the police."

"The police?" Mal exasperates.

"Yes," he answers. "I'm pretty sure you're wanted for aggravated assault."

"My hearing is on Tuesday," Mal seethes. "I think I'm allowed a stupid sandwich until then."

"What's going on out here?" Mal hears the bald man yell, before he walks over to them and the employee takes a step back.

"She's a criminal," he points to her, but the manager doesn't seem impressed. "Sir, she's making the customers uncomfortable."

The blue eyed manager glances around for a mere second, "All I see is you causing a scene, when all these people want to do is eat, and refusing to give our customers their order."

"She's a hybrid," the employee yells.

"And so is my niece," the manager sternly responds as he takes a step towards him. "When I hired you I told you we serve everybody here. That means everybody," he shouts. He raises his eyebrows in question, "You got that?"

"Yes," the employee backs away. "Sorry, sir."

The manager nods, and when he sees Mal he smiles, "You're Maleficent's daughter, right?"

"Yeah," she slowly answers.

He looks back at his employee, "You're lucky she didn't come here to eat you. With your attitude, I may have just let her."

"It won't happen again," the employee promises.

"It'd better not," the manager warns, "because if I find you refusing customers just because of their heritage or presumed lack of morality again, then I will fire you."

When the manager leaves the employee steps back out in front of Mal and Jay, "What was your order again?"

"A sub," Jay answers.

"What kind of bread?" he breathes.

"What kinds are there?" Mal asks.

"We have white, whole grain, or a multigrain flatbread."

"The flatbread," Mal answers.

"And the meat?" he nervously asks.

Mal turns to Jay and he questions, "Pepperoni?"

"Roast beef?" she questions back.

"How about ham and turkey?" he compromises.

Mal nods and turns back to the restless employee, "Turkey and ham."

After he places the meat he questions, "What about cheese?"

"Cheddar," both Mal and Jay say at the same time, and then they smile at each other.

He moves onto the next section, "Would you like any vegetables or condiments with that?"

"No," Mal answers.

"Toasted?" he asks.

"Yes," Jay immediately answers, and then the employee moves to place it in the machine.

A long, silent minute passes, and Mal can feel the tension of the room; however, when she looks around most of the people seem to have returned their attention to the food, only glancing at her if she looks over at them. "Here you go," the employee says, and Mal turns back around to see him hand the bag to Jay.

Jay peers into the bag for a second before nodding to the door, "You want to get out of here and take this outside?" Mal nods, and soon after they leave the building and retreat into the nearest alleyway for privacy. She sits down on a wooden crate, while Jay leans up against the wall opposite of her. "How are you?" he asks as he takes out his part of the sandwich and tosses the bag to her.

Mal takes her own part of the sandwich out, "Well, you know, just stupid humans. Nothing I've never dealt with before."

He nods, "And that other thing? Are you still thinking about it?"

She looks up at him, "Are you talking about the alcohol or Hook?"

He shrugs, "Either."

She looks down, "No. I'm not."

"I know it's hard," Jay begins, and he waits for her to look back up. "But you've made a good life for yourself here. Now isn't the time to slip up."

She half laughs, "If I get sentenced to prison, then I may not have a life to live anyway.

"Mal…"

She shakes her head, "Don't." and then she looks at him for a moment. "I really don't feel like talking about this right now. I just want to finish my sandwich." She glances down at it, "Before I change my mind."

Jay is quiet for a minute, "Okay."

* * *

\- Next Up (Pretty Sure): Ben's dinner date with Mal. Any predictions?


	67. Red as Wine

**Red as Wine**

 **(Day 42: Saturday Evening)**

When Ben and Mal enter the restaurant she widens her eyes at the wide areas and dim, twinkling string lights, "Now I see why you wanted me to dress nice."

He looks over her burgundy top, black leather jacket, and dark jean skirt, "And you do look absolutely extravagant." before he takes her hand and kisses it.

After he straightens back up Mal laughs, "You know, when it comes to being royal you can be a real dork sometimes."

"It's not too much, is it?"

Mal shakes her head, "No. Actually, it's quite refreshing." and then she touches his shoulder. "Just don't do it too much. I don't need to be picking up any good habits."

He grins, "Oh, no! We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Mal grins back, but then she notices the line and points ahead of them, "I think we've fallen behind."

"Yeah. We should fix that," Ben comments, before they move forward a few feet.

"Soo." Mal waits for him to turn back to her, "Do you bring all of your girlfriends here, or do they have to be accused of a crime first?"

Ben purses his lips before gesturing in hesitance, "I've only had one girlfriend before you, and I did not bring her here... So, you would be the first."

"That special, huh?" Mal asks.

"More like I order the same thing every time I come here," Ben explains, "and I wasn't comfortable enough with Audrey to let her see me eat it." His tense smile slowly forms into a frown. "I thought she might find it disgusting."

"But you're comfortable with eating it in front of me?"

He slightly smiles again, "Somehow I think you will hold less judgement on the dish I have planned for us tonight."

"Us?" Mal grins in surprise.

Ben steps forward to the podium, "I had a reservation set for six thirty."

The host nods, "Of course, King Ben. Right this way."

As they follow the waiter, Ben makes sure to answer Mal's previous question, "Trust me. I'm sure you're going to like it. And if for some reason you don't, then you can just give it to me and we can order you something else."

When the host escorts them through the wooden room divider Mal looks at Ben and uneasily says, "This is too kind of you."

He shrugs, "Not really. This is my normal seating area. I prefer the privacy."

When they sit down Mal looks over the diamond cutouts on the room divider, "Private enough to not be seen, but still see-through enough to not be paranoid."

"Precisely," Ben replies.

The host informs, "A waitress will be with you shortly." before he leaves between the two pillars of the wall opening.

Mal turns to Ben, "You said this was your normal seating area. That means that you have been here before— multiple times."

"Yes." Ben folds his hands together, "Funny thing, really… My father used to bring me here a lot." He sees Mal's interest. "Um. Well, you see." He shuts his eyes as he laughs, "I don't know why this is so hard to say."

"To say what?" Mal questions.

He hears her concern, "It's nothing, really. It's just that since my mom always insists on health and meat being overly cooked, my dad would bring me here… and the funny thing is—" He smiles uneasily. "We never really told her."

Mal laughs, "What? Are you eating the meat raw?"

"Not raaaw." Ben grins with unease, "Just rare, I guess?"

She slightly shakes her head, "Now, Ben. Don't you know that eating the blood of an animal is a sin?"

"I do," Ben uncomfortably answers. "Which I why I could never take Audrey here… Her family is very…"

"They believe in the invisible man that lives in the sky," Mal answers for him.

Ben nods, but he no longer smiles, "As do a lot of people here." He glances down at the red table cloth. "While my father was under the curse, the Roman Catholic Church became the predominate lawmaking authority of the land and influenced a lot of people, even today." He sees her frown, "They may have nearly burned my mother at the stake, thinking she was an enchantress herself, and they may have accused my father on several occasions of never having been human at all; however… not all Catholics are like that, and the religion, along with any which have branched forth from it, are to be respected." Mal stays quiet. "It's important that you're not blatant about your beliefs in public. There are still people who believe that if you don't believe in God, then you have no morality at all."

Mal nods down towards the table, "I understand." as she moves her eyes up at him.

"Oh, God," Ben shakes his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean for the conversation to get this, well, serious."

"It's fine," Mal manages. "I'm used to serious conversations… although, I'd much rather ask why your father doesn't take you here anymore."

"What?" he softly asks.

"Before," Mal explains. "You said your father would take you here, but you made it seem like he doesn't do that anymore."

Ben eyes the table for a second, "No. He doesn't."

It's quiet for a moment, before Mal replies, "How do you feel about that?"

"Honestly?" He looks up at her, "I'm perfectly fine with it." He takes a deep breath, "My father wasn't ever the easiest man to talk to in the first place, and now that I've become king…"

"What?" Mal prods on.

Ben shakes his head, "He just hasn't exactly been pleased with the changes I've made."

Mal opens her mouth to ask why, but before she can the dark haired waitress comes in, "Good evening, King Ben. Would you like the usual?"

He wets his lips before answering, "Yes, please— but without the sides— and she will have the same."

She writes it down, "Anything else I can do for you this evening?"

"Ahh, yeah," he remembers. "Instead of the Cola, may we get a bottle of red wine instead, please?"

She smiles, "Of course."

"Thank you."

Mal stares at him for a minute as the waitress leaves, before she tenses a smile, "Wine?"

"To celebrate," he finishes.

She slightly shakes her head, "What are we celebrating?"

"Valentine's Day. A quiet night together," he offers.

"Right," Mal slowly replies.

He frowns at the sight of her nervousness, "You did say that you drank before, right?"

Mal remembers the night his parents interrogated her, and she nearly laughs through a grin before nodding, "Yes. I did."

Ben smiles, "Good. I wouldn't want to force you to do something you didn't want to do."

Mal tenses to keep the smile, "No. Of course, not." and she keeps looking at him, wondering whether she should tell him or not; however, then she frowns. _We just started dating, and I have enough baggage for him to deal with the way it is. He can't know about this too_. "I'm just going to use the bathroom for a minute."

"Okay," he responds before pointing. "There should be one out there towards the left."

She nods, "Thank you." before she heads off to the bathroom.

When she goes inside she immediately takes out her phone and calls Jay. There's a ring, and then two, and then there's a third. "Mal?"

She lets out a breath of relief, "I'm so glad you picked up."

"What's going on?"

Mal can hear his concern, "I'm at dinner with Ben, and he's just ordered us a bottle of wine. What do I do?"

Jay sighs, "I'm guessing that just being honest with him isn't on the top of your to-do-list right now."

"Have you not been paying attention to everything that's been going on lately? He's a royal," Mal fiercely whispers. "And as his parents keep pointing out, I'm just a hybrid. And not only that, but I'm one trial away from being a criminal." She laughs in stress, "I feel like if I give him one more reason to leave me, then he will finally come to his senses and break up with me."

There's a pause, "Ben is a good guy, and he's way too understanding for his own good. I'm sure he wouldn't do that to you."

"Maybe, but that's not a risk I'm willing to take." There's silence for a minute. "Jay?"

"How in control do you feel right now?" he questions.

"Pretty in control, I guess," Mal answers. "I mean, it's not like I'd want him to see me drinking like that."

There's another pause, "I might have an idea, but I only want you to do it if you know you have control. If you have any fear of slipping up at all, then I don't want you to do it."

"I will be fine," Mal promises. "Just tell me what it is."

* * *

When Mal gets back to her seat she finds the meal has already been served, and she smiles at it, "This is a big steak."

"Only the biggest and juiciest this kingdom has to offer," Ben smiles back, but then it falters and he hesitates to continue. "You know, you were in the bathroom for a little while. Are you okay?"

"Oh," Mal nearly laughs. "Yeah. I just had to call Jay. He seemed worried."

"Worried?" Ben questions.

"Well, you know… with everything that's been going on lately and everything—"

"Ah. Right," Ben interrupts. "Of course, he would be worried. He is your friend after all… Right?"

Mal's frown slowly turns into a grin, "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Well, jealous, that is such a—"

"Because," Mal comments, "unless you'd like to be my brother instead, I recommend you to stop."

"Brother?" Ben's jaw drops in disbelief.

"We grew up together," Mal explains. "He sees me as a little sister… and low key, we're pretty sure our parents have been messing around for at least a few years now. So, even though we're not blood related, it doesn't make your jealousy any less weird."

"Jealousy?" Ben insecurely questions. "Who said anything about being jealous? Because, I am completely not jealous."

Mal cringes, "Forget about being a royal dork. I'm starting to think you're just being a dork in general."

"It is pretty awkward right now, isn't it?" he acknowledges.

"Yeah," Mal strains a smile. "It totally is."

"Well, in that case," Ben continues on from the subject. "Let's make a toast." Mal frowns briefly, as she picks up the wine glass. Ben smiles, "Here's a toast to Valentine's Day, your concerned brother, and my incredible dorkiness." He gestures, "I swear, I'm not always like this. I promise."

She smiles, "It's fine. People always find a way to make themselves look bad when they lack some kind of knowledge."

Ben nods, "True." before bringing his glass further up. "To our nice, quiet night together." Mal brings her glass up as well, and when the glasses clink she watches Ben wait the sound out. "It's bad luck to drink while it's chiming."

Mal nods, but it's not a moment later that she watches Ben bring the glass to his lips. She looks down at her own drink, before she wraps her lips tightly onto the glass and lifts it up. Immediately, she can smell the alcohol, and she shuts her eyes in an attempt not to think about it; however, it's then that the other smell catches her attention. _Is that strawberries?_ She opens her eyes, but it feels like forever until Ben sets the glass back down. Eventually, though, he does, and she's able to do the same, making sure to take the napkin to her lips and wipe the red liquid off afterwards.

"So. What do you think?"

Mal's lips part as she eyes the glass, "It was amazing." but then she forces her attention away to the steak. She picks up the fork and knife, and as she cuts a piece off she watches the blood ooze out of the meat. "This is rare?"

"Well, it's not raw," he defends, as she smiles at him. "We can get you something else if you'd like."

Mal brings the slice into her mouth and chews it, "Mmm." before swallowing it. "Don't you dare. This has to be the best thing I've ever had."

Ben sighs, "I am so relieved to hear you say that." but then he sees Mal frown. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," she quietly answers. "It's just that my mom, she would actually eat meat raw sometimes." Her eyes move up to the left. "In fact, as you probably already know, she ate people." Mal looks back at him, "I don't want to become like her."

He looks between Mal and the steak, "What you're eating is just a cow. It's not a person. You should be able to enjoy it, whether it's juicy or not." She doesn't speak. "How much meat do you normally eat?"

Mal shrugs, "A normal amount… On the Isle, it might have even been less than that."

Ben frowns, "It's not enough, though, is it? You want more."

She places her head in her hand, as she feels the back of her eyes burn, "It's just greed. That's all it is."

"No," Ben sternly disagrees. "It's not." She looks up at him, and he reaches to wipe away the few fallen tears. "When your body tells you that you need something, you need to listen to it. Okay? You can't let people— or your mother— keep you from being healthy."

Mal shakes her head, "I am healthy. My weight is up, and I get my period and everything. My body works just fine."

"Then why are you always hungry?" he debates. "If you were really getting all of the nutrients that you need, then your stomach wouldn't be growling all the time."

"It's always done that," she denies.

It takes Ben a minute to reach for her hand and calmly comment, "I have a theory that if you eat this steak, then you won't be hungry." She gives him a look. "Just humor me, please."

Mal lets out an irritable breath, "Okay. Fine. I'll humor you." before she goes to pick up the knife and fork again. As she cuts a piece, she complains, "Sometimes I think you're better at persuasion than my mother." Ben laughs, and she smiles back before placing the meat square into her mouth.

He continues to look at her, "You're beautiful when you're irritated."

"And you're cute when you're insecure," Mal retorts, "but let's not aim for that." She points her fork at his plate. "If I'm eating, then you have to eat too."

"Yes. Of course," Ben answers before eyeing his own steak and picking up the utensils.

Mal takes a minute to cut the entire steak into pieces, but it's only after a few seconds that she breaks the silence, "About your father."

"Let's not talk about him," Ben interrupts, and he shuts his eyes as he takes a calming breath. "Or either of our parents." He looks back up at her, "I think we've talked about them enough for one night."

"Okay," Mal slowly lets out. "Then what would you like to talk about?"

He's quiet for a second, before he gestures, "You and your brother—"

"You're still not used to the concept yet, are you?" Mal recognizes. "You know, you can just call him Jay. It's okay."

Ben nods, "So… you and Jay, then. If you really grew up together, then you must have some interesting stories. I think I'd like to hear a couple."

Mal seethes, "I do have a few good ones, but I'm afraid if I tell you, then he may want to kill me. Figuratively speaking."

"Come on," he insists. "There has to be at least one you can tell me."

She gives him a look, "Don't you still take Dude for walks sometimes? Why don't you just ask him yourself the next time you visit?"

"And have him tell me the same thing you told me?" He questions. "No way. I'm not falling for that. You might as well just tell me now."

Mal smiles, "Okay." but after a moment of trying to think of one her smile fades. "There is this one from when we were younger… I don't know if he even remembers it."

"What is it?"

Mal takes in a deep breath, before she slowly releases it, "It was when we were little. My mom and I visited his father's shop, and we hung out with them in the upstairs apartment." She looks down for a second, "His father baked some cookies, said they were specifically for Jay." Ben frowns at the sight of her eyes glistening, before she slowly continues. "I wanted to have some fun, I guess, or make Jay mad or something, because I thought it was funny. So… I went and took the cookies from him, and I ran around eating them." She sadly laughs as she smiles back up at Ben, "The cookies were poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Ben questions.

"With rat poison," Mal confirms. "I don't know if his father was actually trying to kill him or if he just got mad and wanted to make him pay, make him sick or whatever, but if I hadn't taken them…" She glances down at the table, "I don't know where we would be today."

Ben's quiet for a second, "What about you? What happened to you?"

Mal laughs, "Well, luckily for me my body is apparently very good at expelling poisons." before she continues more seriously. "It's kind of disgusting, actually, but basically I molted."

"Molted?" Ben repeats. "You mean, like a snake?"

"Exactly like a snake," Mal compares before shaking her head. "For all I know, if Jay had eaten those cookies instead, then he could have died."

Ben places a hand to his head, "How could his father do that to him? Try to kill him?"

"Like I said before," Mal reminds him, "I don't know if he was actually trying to kill him or not… But if he was, then there's always the fact that apparently he left his wife because she kept wanting him to see Mr. Hyde."

"Mr. Hyde?"

"Yeah." Mal explains, "After he cured his own ailment, he was able to develop a whole line of potions that can help people with emotional issues. I guess, she thought that Jay's father wasn't doing the things he was doing on purpose."

"I've heard of bipolar disorder," Ben contemplates, "but I never thought it got that bad, that that was just some myth or a stereotype."

Mal frowns, "Jay always thought that he was a trigger, that the things he did or said made his father even worse." Ben doesn't say anything. "It's actually part of the reason why we got that clubhouse. It was supposed to be a place for any of us to go to if we had… problems. If we couldn't find each other at our houses, then we knew exactly where to go. Well…" Ben eyes her quietness. "That is except for Evie." She shakes her head at the table, "There were times when we couldn't find her for weeks, and when we tried to visit her her mother would just say that they're busy." before she looks back up at Ben and swallows back the tears. "Jay and I tried to break her out of her room a couple times, but she was never there."

"What happened to her?" he asks.

Mal shrugs, "I don't know." and when the tears fall she immediately wipes them away. "We never asked… It's just better to keep some things private, you know?"

Ben frowns as he glances down at the table, "Yeah. I know." before he looks back up and gestures to her glass. "Your wine. You've barely touched it."

Mal eyes it for a second, "I don't feel like having any alcohol right now."

"I don't think anyone feels like having alcohol," Ben starts. "It's a special occasion. We're trying to have a nice night together. You should be able to enjoy yourself."

Mal shuts her eyes before rolling them, "It's never just a special occasion." before she attempts to smile and grabs his hand. "So long as you're here with me, I don't need some stupid drink to enjoy myself. I'm happy enough just being here with you. Okay?"

Ben frowns as he slightly nods, "I understand."

* * *

\- So, the chapter title just came to me, and then I realized I was thinking of the phrase 'right as rain' when I came up with it. In that context it doesn't really make any sense, but hopefully it makes at least enough sense for the chapter itself.

\- So, **Guest2.0** , I'm thinking that it's not a name and that you really are a guest, but regardless I saw your review for chapter 31 (you know who you are) and I am so glad you liked the part where Belle tells Adam that you can't just ask why someone's natural hair color is a certain color. With the parallels I've been trying to make to real-world issues, I was so hoping that someone would comment on that... I don't know if you will make it this far, but if/when you do, just know that I am so grateful for your review.


	68. Jerks will be Jerks

**Jerks will be Jerks**

 **(Day 42: Saturday Night)**

"Just ignore them," Ben whispers to Mal as they make their way to the dorms.

"That's easier said than done," Mal hisses back, as she sees Audrey spot them on their way past the girls' floor.

When they make it to the guys' floor Ben frowns at the number of stares they receive, "Maybe you're right." but that doesn't stop him from guiding her to his room.

Chad steps in front of his door, "Girls aren't allowed in the boys' dorms."

Mal scrunches her eyebrows at him, "I come up to visit Jay and Carlos all the time."

"That's different," he defends.

"How?" Mal questions.

"Because," he turns from her to Ben, "they haven't suddenly started to wear damned turtlenecks all the frickin' time." He reaches for Ben's neck, but Ben grabs his arm and pushes it back before he can. Chad yells, "You hate turtlenecks. I know you're hiding a hickey or something under there."

Ben glares at him, "Even if I were, it would be none of your business."

Chad shakes his head at him, "You're king of the whole damn country. You could have anyone you want, and you choose her?"

"What's wrong with her?" Ben defends.

He points at her, "She's a hybrid."

"A lot of people are hybrids," Ben bypasses.

"She's a criminal," Chad infuriates.

"She's innocent until proven guilty."

"She's— She's—"

"She's what?" he sternly interrupts.

"She's a bad influence," Chad unconvincingly answers.

Ben's mouth gapes open for a moment, before he lifts a closed hand up in stress, "I mean this in the best possible way, really Chad, but you have got to be thee most confusing person I know. Are you saying these things because you care or do you just like making me unhappy, because I thought we were getting along before but then you had my girlfriend cheat on me with you? And now that I've found a girl that makes me happier than I have been in a long while, you're trying to discredit her? Just tell me, what exactly are you trying to do here?"

It takes a second for Chad to firmly respond, "You deserve better than her."

Ben yells, "Well, that's not your decision, is it?" and when Chad falls silent Ben pushes past him and opens the door to his room.

Chad slowly moves over to the other wall, but when he sees Mal enter Ben's room he furrows his brows as he says, "Whore." under his breath.

Ben turns back around, "What did you just say?"

He takes a step forward, "I called your girlfriend a whore."

Ben grits his teeth and runs towards Chad, pushing him hard against the other wall, "Take that back."

"Why?" Chad questions. "It's true, isn't it? That's why she's going into your room. She's convinced you to have sex with her, hasn't she?"

Ben lets go of Chad, his mouth gaped for a moment, "We're literally just going to watch a movie. That's it. We have no plans to do anything else." He shakes his head and puts his hands in the air, "Seriously, I don't get it. What is it with you? Why are you trying to ruin everything for me? It's like you've made it your life's goal to make me unhappy."

"It's not like that," Chad insists.

"Then explain yourself." Ben questions, "Why?" Chad merely eyes the ground for a second and doesn't speak. "That's what I thought."

He looks back up at him, "Ben. I—"

"You what?" he interrupts.

Chad quiets, "Nothing."

Ben glares at him, "Don't you have better things to do, perhaps your own girlfriend to attend to?"

"Yeah," Chad softly answers. "I do."

"My advice," Ben offers. "Audrey likes to have a lot of attention… at least from her boyfriend." He widens his eyes at him, "So, I suggest that you get on with your relationship and stay out of mine, because if you don't she may very well just break up with you." Chad stays silent and doesn't move. "Do you need an invitation? Go. Take care of her." When he still doesn't move Ben turns back around and strides into his own room, slamming the door behind himself. "He is just so infuriating."

Mal comments, "Yeah. I can tell." She watches as he paces back-and-forth. "But it's okay now. He's not here to bother you anymore."

"You know," Ben begins. "He's always had it out for me, but that was just politics. Even when we were friends I knew that he never actually meant any of it. But this?"

"You were friends with him?" Mal disbelieves.

Ben lets out a stressed breath, "It's complicated."

She walks up to him, "Then let me uncomplicate it for you." before she moves her hand to the top of his neck and kisses him; however, it's then that she can smell it, and when she kisses him again she thinks she can actually taste it. _The wine_. She presses her lips against his a third time, but this time the taste is limited and she's able to push herself off from him.

Ben smiles as he slightly shakes his head, "You're right. This is supposed to be our nice, quiet night together. I shouldn't be ruining it by getting frustrated with Chad." He sees her contemplative expression. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Mal tries to smile. "It's just that I can smell the alcohol on your breath, and I'm wondering whether I should ask you to brush your teeth or not."

"Oh!" Ben quickly places a hand up to his mouth, "I'll go do that right now."

"Okay," Mal evenly responds, before she watches him head off into the bathroom.

She hears him comment, "You should turn on the TV and look through the movie descriptions to see if you can find something that interests you."

Mal looks over the semi-messy room, "Where's the remote?"

"Try the table."

Mal sees the circular table and walks up to it, before she searches through the textbooks and empty Diet Coke cans. The soda flavors include lime and cherry, and there's also wrappers from protein bars and mamba fruit chews, "Study much?" She receives no response, only able to hear the running water, before she lifts up the Communications textbook and finds the remote.

Afterwards, she sits down on the edge of Ben's bed and looks through the movies. Some of them are cartoons, others are live action dramas, and after reading the description of a few science fiction and fantasy ones she sees the documentary. It's described as a study on hybrids, their behavior, and their overall impact on society, something that seems very relevant to her; however, when she presses play and it begins she watches as Ben hurries back into the room and snatches the remote out from her hand to stop it. "You don't want to watch that."

"Why not?"

"Because," Ben explains, "the documentary was made by humans and is extremely biased. If you pay close enough attention you can tell that they actually provoked the hybrids and only left their responses. It's specifically designed to make hybrids look bad. It's propaganda. I don't want you to have to watch it."

"But it's a documentary," Mal fails to understand. "It's supposed to be true. If it isn't, then why's it on here for everyone to see?"

Ben shakes his head as he takes a stressed breath, "Free speech… or something stupid like that." He sees her expression. "When people believe something to be true, they have the right to make that idea public… which is why I'm also going to ask you not to watch any documentaries on my parents. The stories they came up with— they're insane."

Mal slightly nods, "Okay."

Ben sits down next to her, "Now. Let's find something a little more appropriate."

* * *

By the time their second movie is halfway done, Ben and Mal find themselves lying down on the bed snuggled up against each other; however, Mal lets out an annoyed breath when Ben's phone chimes again. "You should get that."

"But I'm watching a movie with you," he disagrees.

"Well, unlike you, I can't pay attention to a movie when there's stuff happening in real life." She sits up, "Please. Just take care of it so that we can finish this thing in peace."

Ben shakes his head, "Alright." before he sits up as well and grabs his phone.

Mal watches him place a hand to his head, "What is it?"

"Chad," Ben tiredly comments. "He wants to hang out sometime."

"Seriously?" Mal questions.

"Seriously," Ben confirms. "He also said his girlfriend doesn't have to know about it."

"That's something someone says when they're cheating," Mal suspiciously replies.

Ben lets out a breath, "Well, in a way he would be, what with us supporting opposing sides to a court case and all."

Mal nods, "Right." and after a moment of quiet she questions him. "So, are you going to be hanging out with him sometime, then?"

"Well, that depends." He looks at her, "You're the one Chad was being mean to. How would you feel about me spending some time with him?"

She shakes her head, "Honestly, I don't know." and then she watches Ben look down as he slowly nods. "I guess it would have to depend…"

He looks back up at her, "Depend on what?"

"What exactly is it with you and Chad? Are you just acquaintances, friends, enemies… political allies?" She gives him a questioning look, "Or something else?"

"Like I've said before," Ben tries to explain, "it's complicated… I suppose, the best way to describe it would be like a kind of on again, off again kind of friendship."

Mal half laughs, "Which is why he thinks he can just text you to hang out after what he just pulled."

Ben wets his lips, "I told you, I won't hang out with him if you don't want me to."

Mal shuts her eyes and releases a frustrated breath, before she shakes her head, "It's fine. I'm not going to make you stop hanging out with your friends."

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"Yeah." Mal attempts a smile, "Jerks will be jerks, and if you want to be friends with one, then that's just fine with me."

"Mal." He grabs her hand, "Chad and I have been friends for a very long time, and if you're saying I can spend time with him again, then I need you to mean it. I don't want to hang out with him if it means you comparing me to him and all of the stupid stuff he does."

"For the record," Mal looks up at him, "you are the nicest guy I have ever met, and I could never forget that… If you really want to be friends with Chad again, then I won't stop you. You deserve to be happy in every aspect of your life, not just with me."

Ben smiles, "Thank you."

Mal rolls her eyes, "Yeah. Whatever." and then she smiles back. "Can we just get back to the movie, already?"

"Yeah," Ben answers, but he doesn't press play. "Just let me go brush my teeth."

Mal laughs, "But you just did that earlier."

"Did I not have any soda since then?" he excuses.

She shakes her head, "You are too good for your own good."

"Yeah," Ben slowly answers. "It's a curse." He laughs, "Come on. I'll only be a minute." before he makes his way to the bathroom.

"Sure. Whatever," Mal comments as she lies back down and stares at the frozen frame of the movie.

Ben shuts the door and locks it, before he fills the plastic cup with water and takes the items from the medicine cabinet. He takes the cap off of the liquid flu medicine, pours it to the thirty milliliter line, and then drinks it, before he cleans it and downs the melatonin with the water. He puts the items away and almost leaves, but then he checks his breath. It reeks of the cold medicine. He lets out a long breath, as he goes to reach for his toothbrush and toothpaste. _It's probably a bad idea to lie anyway_.

* * *

\- So many of you want Malvie to be endgame. I don't know if it's my writing or just the ship in general, but whatever it is, it's amazing! Don't worry. The next set of chapters should have some Malvie content.


	69. Quiet

**Quiet**

 **(Day 43: Sunday Morning)**

Mal takes in a deep breath as her arm hits something next to her, and when she hears him make a noise she lets out the breath in relief, "Ben?"

He opens his eyes, "Mal?"

She takes the covers off and slides to the edge of the bed, "Sorry."

"What's going on?"

Mal shakes her head, "Nothing." as she mutters under her breath. "I just felt like I was in danger."

"What?" he questions, seemingly confused.

Mal stands to her feet and slips on her shoes, "This was a stupid idea." before she goes to take her jacket from the chair. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Are you leaving?"

Mal cracks the door open, "Don't worry about me, okay? I'm sure you have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow. Just go back to sleep." and after she sees his eyes shut again she leaves. It had been sudden, but she can still feel it. She remembers sensing something around her, and then immediately she had been filled with dread. _He was a danger_. Mal shakes her head as she enters her dorm, before she finds the purple bag on her bed and heads out again. She doesn't know where she's going, but it's going to be somewhere quiet where she can't be alone.

* * *

Mal ferociously sketches each scene that invades her mind. She remembers his face perfectly, and she hates that after all of this time she can still pick out all of the little details: the dark circles, black eye makeup, and that creepy smile that lines up with his defined cheek bones. She hates it all, and yet she hopes that if she colors it in, then she'll finally be able to forget. _What's a young lass like you doing in a place like this?_ She remembers how his fake hook brushed her hair over her shoulder. _Is it true what they say?_ He took a step closer. _You come here for heat?_

"Shh," Mal shuts her eyes tight.

 _How interesting_. When he reached for her she took a step back. _Who are you?_

"Shh," she shushes louder.

 _Why, I run this establishment_. He stepped forward. _And, you know, if you ever_ —

"Just be quiet."

 _It would be free_.

Mal slams the sketchpad shut, "I said be quiet." and she takes deep breaths before placing a hand to her head. "Just stay quiet." She shuts her eyes and another image flashes, "Please."

 _I doubt those three years of your life meant absolutely nothing to you. To our nice, quiet night together_. She shakes her head and starts to put the colored pencils away, but as she remembers the taste of the wine on Ben's lips she finds herself calm some. She gathers her things and stands, before she laughs, "Fuck this." and leaves the library, not even bothering to relock it. There's some in the kitchen. She knows there is. She saw it back when they all made those love potion cookies for Ben.

She strides down the hallways to the kitchen, not a single person in sight on her way there, and when she finally gets there Mal rummages through the cupboard. "Come on. I know you're in here." She searches some more, "Just come out. I promise I won't drink all of you." and it's not a moment later that she finds it in the bottom cupboard. Immediately, she takes the cap off and takes a drink, and then she makes a face as she reads the label. _Cooking wine_. "Well. You're still wine." She shuts the cupboard door with her foot, "I'm sure you'll do just fine." before she finds a large glass and sits down at the island counter. Mal smiles as she pours it into the glass, "You're red too. Is there any strawberries in you?"

When she takes the first gulp from the glass she makes herself swallow it, "You're verrry salty. You know that?" She laughs and takes another drink, "Well. It's official. I can't possibly mess up any more." She clinks her glass to the bottle. "Cheers to that."

* * *

"Mal. Is that you?"

Mal looks up and sees the brown haired girl, "Oh. Hey, Lons." She takes another drink. "What're you doing here?"

"I just got back from my morning run. I was going to make myself some juice." She walks over to the counter, "You're not actually drinking that, are you?"

Mal laughs, "It's working, isn't it?"

"Working? What?" Lonnie shakes her head and grabs the nearly empty bottle, "The salt content in here is terrible. No, actually. It's harmful. That's why they get this garbage instead of the real stuff. The purpose is to keep people from straight up drinking it."

"Boo hoo," Mal responds back, before she takes another drink. "They're jus' going to have ta deal with it."

It takes a moment for Lonnie to ask, "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Mal eyes the counter, "I remember everything." before more images of Ben and Hook enter her mind. "Speaking of which." She takes another large gulp. "Uh, this stuff is horrible."

"And yet you keep drinking it," Lonnie watches.

"You have a better idea?" Lonnie sits down opposite of her and takes the glass away. "Hey. That's mine." Mal tries to snatch it back from her.

Lonnie keeps it away, "Tell me what's going on. What are you trying to forget?"

"What am I trying to forget," Mal laughs before gritting her teeth. "Everything!" She widens her eyes at her, "Now, give it back to me."

She huffs in disbelief, "No."

Mal hunches over and places a hand to her head. Her hypnotism didn't work. "I think I'm sick."

"Not surprising," Lonnie comments. "That stuff might as well be poisonous. How much of it did you have anyway?"

"The bottle." Lonnie's mouth gapes open, but she fails to speak. Instead, she takes the remainder of the bottle and glass to the sink. "What are you doing?"

She comes back and hands her the glass, "Drink this."

Mal looks at the clear liquid, "What is it?"

"To help with the salt. Just drink it," she instructs.

Mal gulps down the liquid, but almost immediately she feels it rising back up her throat, "What—" She tries to stand to her feet; however, she has to balance herself on the counter, and she's only able to take a single step before throwing up onto the floor. "Ugh." She sits back down in the chair.

Lonnie shakes her head, "Maybe I should get Ben."

"No," Mal sternly responds, before she shakes her head, "I don't want to deal with him right now."

She looks at her in concern, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Mal answers as she rests her head in her arms. "He's nice."

"But you don't want me to get him?" Mal shakes her head, and Lonnie sits back down. "He's your boyfriend. He should know about this."

"No," Mal softly responds. "He knows enough me already."

"Mal," Lonnie starts. "I'm trying here. I really am. But, honestly, I don't know what you want me to do."

"Leave," Mal tiredly replies.

"I can't just leave you like this," she loudly insists. "You need help."

Mal makes a noise, "I miss Evie."

"Evie? Your roommate," Lonnie realizes. "Do you want me to get her?"

"No," Mal slowly answers. "She's going to be mad. Mad, and sad, and worried, and sad."

"Why would she be upset with you?" Mal doesn't speak, only lifting her head up a little. "Well… it can't be that bad, right? Do you have your phone? We could call instead."

"I don't want her to see me like this." Lonnie doesn't speak. "I betrayed her… I betrayed Jay. I said I would be okay."

"What do you want to do?" Lonnie calmly asks.

Mal pictures Evie, "I want to see her."

"So, you will call her, then?" she questions.

Mal pushes herself up from the counter, "Yeah. I'll call her." before she reaches for her jacket's pocket and unzips it.

Lonnie watches Mal set the phone down on the table and stare at it, "She's not going to hate you."

She glances up at her for a second before pulling up Evie's contact and calling her. "Mal?" She grunts, "It's five A.M. What's going on?"

"I missed you," she innocently says.

"Missed me?" Evie questions. "You just saw me this morning. Or, I mean, yesterday."

"I know," Mal pouts, "but I do."

"Okay. No," Evie disbelieves. "What's really going on? Where are you?"

Mal smiles, "The kitchen."

"What are you doing in the kitchen?"

Mal laughs, "I found the wine."

Evie lets out a long, sad breath, "No, Mal. You didn't."

When Mal doesn't respond Lonnie speaks into it, "Hey, Evie. It's Lonnie. By the time I found Mal she already finished off an entire bottle of cooking wine."

"How is she?" Evie asks.

"Honestly?" Lonnie questions. "She's sick, obviously, but she seems more worried about how you will react to it."

"Yeah," Evie comments, "Mal's health hasn't exactly been a priority to her lately." She pauses, "Can you, please, just get her up here?"

"Yeah," she answers. "Of course."

"I'm sorry," Mal frowns into the phone.

Evie's quiet for a moment, "We'll talk about this up here. Be good and follow Lonnie. She's going to take you to me."

"Okay."

Lonnie picks up the phone, "We'll be up there in a few minutes." before the call ends.

Mal takes the phone back, "She's gone."

Lonnie tries to smile at her, "Don't worry. We're going to find her." before she stands up, goes around the island counters, and guides Mal out of the room.

* * *

\- Don't you just hate memories?


	70. I Trusted You

**I Trusted You**

 **(Day 43: Sunday Morning)**

When Mal gets inside the dorm Evie sits her down on her bed, "Thank you for getting her up here."

Lonnie replies, "You're welcome." but she hesitates to leave. "You know, she had a lot of salt… I tried giving her some water, but she just threw up."

Evie turns around and raises her eyebrows at her, "You gave Mal water? What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that salt causes dehydration," she sternly states.

"Mal doesn't drink water," Evie worriedly responds. "She gets enough of it the way it is just through food and stuff. How much did you give her?"

"Just one glass." She frowns, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Evie lets out of breath of relief, "One glass. That… hopefully it's fine."

"She still had a lot of salt," Lonnie reminds her. "Maybe we should get her to the hospital."

Evie nearly laughs, "And what's the hospital going to do with a part dragon? Give her water like you tried to?" She stays quiet. "I can take care of her. Just leave."

Lonnie hesitates to say, "Okay."

When Lonnie turns around Evie remembers, "Wait." and then she stops. "If you really want to help us, then you will forget what you saw today." Lonnie doesn't speak, merely heading out the door and closing it behind her.

* * *

"Hey." Evie sits down on Mal's bed and touches her arm, "How are you doing?"

Mal opens her eyes, "Maybe a little better." but after another second she shakes her head. "I'm still broken. My eyes won't work."

"You mean, your hypnotism?" Evie clarifies.

"Yeah."

Evie moves her fingers an inch and then eyes Mal's arm, "Your skin is really dry. Let me get some lotion."

"No. Don't." Evie turns back to her. "It's supposed to be dry."

Evie slightly nods, "Alright. Is there anything I can do for you? It's breakfast time. I could get you some milk and bacon."

"No," Mal shuts her eyes for a minute. "I still feel a little nauseous."

"Okay." Evie says, and then there's a knock at the door.

When Evie stands Mal grabs hold of her, "Don't leave me."

"Mal," she sadly replies. "I need to answer the door." With that, Mal lets go, and then Evie heads for the door; however, she narrows her eyes at the sight of him, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, it's just," Ben begins, before he rubs his hands together. "You see, I had this weird dream last night. Actually… I'm not sure if it was a dream or not." Evie gives him a look of disbelief. "Is Mal here? Can I talk to her?"

"No," Evie sternly states. "You can't."

"Please," he pleads. "I need to know if what happened really happened or not."

"Why?" Evie crosses her arms. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know," Ben frustrates. "One minute I was holding her, and in the next— she was just gone… But then the dream, in it she said she felt like she was in danger?" He sadly looks at her, "I don't know what happened."

"Wait. You were holding her?" Evie sidetracks.

"Please, just tell me she's okay."

Evie stares at him for a moment as she clutches onto the doorframe, "I'm sorry. I can't tell you that." Ben's mouth drops, and Evie steps into the hallway before shutting the door. "She's sick. And it's your fault."

"What?" Ben slowly processes.

"You were supposed to watch her," Evie angrily explains.

"We were asleep," he tries to defend.

Evie laughs, "What if someone had gone into your room with a gun? Would you have been awake then, or would you have been just lying dead while Mal deals with it by herself?"

It takes a moment for Ben to answer, "I don't know."

Evie glares at him, "I trusted you with her."

"I know," he quickly says.

She doesn't let him explain, "I let you have her for one night— one night— and then she goes off and does this."

"Does what?" Ben asks.

Evie huffs, "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I'm her boyfriend," Ben nearly shouts. "I deserve to know what's going on with her."

"Well, then," Evie partly smiles, "you should have been there when she needed you, shouldn't you have?" He lets out a sad breath. "I trusted you with her. I told you to be there when she needs you, and you betrayed us."

"It's not like that," Ben denies.

"No," Evie puts a hand up. "You're not worming your way out of this one."

"Just let me explain."

She huffs, "Okay. Tell me. What excuse could you possibly have to not take care of your girlfriend? What could you possibly say to make this better?" Ben opens his mouth, but no words come out. "Well? I'm waiting."

"I—" _I took something_. "I—" _I was knocked out_. He places a hand to his head for a moment, before he looks at her. "I just couldn't wake up."

"You just couldn't wake up." Evie laughs, "That's your excuse?"

Ben is quiet for a minute, "Yes. I suppose it is." He watches as Evie steps back away from him, opens the door up, and moves inside.

She shakes her head at him, "You need to find a better excuse." before she shuts the door on him.

When Ben turns around he sees Audrey. "Trouble in paradise?"

He frowns, "I think I really messed up." She steps towards him, but then he steps back, "This doesn't change anything. I'm still going to help her." before walking away from her.

* * *

\- Sorry if the ending seems a little abrupt, but I ran out of room. What do you think? Should I leave as is where Ben walks away that soon, or do you want me to add another page where he would have more of a conversation with Audrey? After all, this chapter is a little shorter than they have been lately... Although, if the conversation with Audrey were to be longer, I'm not sure what exactly I could do with it. I feel like them talking about how he messed up would be awkward, and you would think that with everything that's going on they probably wouldn't be talking anyway... I could also just take out the last two lines and have it end with the door being shut on him, if you want, but I felt like since the argument happened in the hallway that at least someone should comment on it. (Isn't that just the most horrible thing in movies? You see these people having these fights or talking about all these secret things in front of other people, and 90% of the time they're not even paranoid that someone will hear and no one ever seems to notice it.)


	71. Say It, Tell Me

**Say It, Tell Me**

 **(Day 43: Sunday Morning)**

When Doug places his hand on the doorknob he hesitates, before he turns around to face Jay and Carlos, "Just, before we leave… there is something I wanted to ask you two."

"Ask us?" Carlos slowly inquires.

"Not ask," Doug corrects before pursing his lips tight in thought. "More like… I've noticed some things." Carlos and Jay glance at each other. Doug unsurely smiles, "It's great that you guys are close… or whatever, and your offer for me to take one of the beds was really nice, but if anyone asks I think we should tell them that I took the floor."

"Why?" Jay questions.

"Why?" Doug repeats, before he laughs in stress and gestures between the two of them, "Because, this isn't normal."

Carlos eyes Doug's hand as Jay defends, "It was a sleepover. There were three of us and only two beds. What else were we supposed to do, just have you sleep on the floor?" He furrows his eyebrows at him, "Would you have preferred that we let you?"

Doug shuts his eyes for a moment, "This is coming out wrong." as he takes a second to think. "Look. I don't know how things are done where you come from… From what I've heard it sounds ruff, and maybe you're just used to sharing things with your friends. But here, here people don't share everything like that… I may have only attended one or two sleepovers before, but we were required to bring our own sleeping bags and the people who didn't were left to sleep on the floor with nothing but a blanket and just maybe a pillow." He watches as Jay and Carlos glance at each other, "I know that I've heard girls talk about their sleepovers and how they would share beds if there was enough room, but I've never heard anything like that from a guy before." They stay silent. "I'm just trying to look out for you. Whatever it is between you two, you don't have to let the entire world know about it."

Jay looks down at him, "I wasn't aware we were."

"No. Of course, not." He shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." before he uneasily smiles at them. "Let's just get down to breakfast. We've already missed enough of it."

Jay nods, "Okay." but when he begins to step forward Carlos blocks him with an arm.

"No." He glares at Doug, "If you have something to say, then say it."

"It's really nothing," Doug insists. He shakes head with a stressed grin, "I just don't get it." before he looks at Jay. "I've seen how you are with girls. Why would you be with him, when you can have any one of them?"

"Who said anything about us being together?" Jay calmly denies.

"Oh. Come on," Doug laughs. "When I went to use the bathroom last night I saw you holding him like— like—" He slowly shakes head, "Some kind of boyfriend or something."

"I was asleep," Jay excuses. "Maybe I thought he was a girl." He smiles as he places an arm on Carlos's shoulder and lightly leans on him, "He's the right size for it."

"Oh. Shut up," Carlos laughs as he pushes him off of him. "I am not that small."

"See. That," Doug points out, and then they look back at him. "The way you tease him and he jokes with you. Are you seriously going to tell me that's nothing?"

"Friends joke all the time," Jay explains away.

"Not like that," Doug refutes.

Jay frowns, "In any case, it's none of your damn business." before he takes a step forward. "Whatever you think you saw, you didn't see it." He raises his eyebrows in question, "Got it?"

Doug leans against the door, "Loud and clear."

Jay slightly smiles, "Good. Now, open the door." and Doug complies.

* * *

When Evie opens the door Jay comments, "Hey. I can't seem to get ahold of Mal. She had a date with Ben, and I wanted to check to see how it went. Is she here?"

"Yeah," Evie frowns. "She's sick."

"Sick?" Jay questions. "She was fine yesterday."

"Well, that was before she drank an entire bottle of salted wine," Evie explains, and Jay grows concerned. "I'm scared," Evie whispers. "She was throwing up last night, and now her skin is peeling off." She looks at him hopefully, "You've known her longer than I have. Is it supposed to do that when she's sick?"

"Not when she gets sick," Jay frowns. "When she gets poisoned, yeah."

"Poisoned?" she questions.

"Yeah," Jay answers. "After Mal quit Uma's gang—" He shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. The skin sheading is a good thing. I would be more worried if it wasn't happening."

Evie slightly nods, "Okay. Good."

"Can I talk to her?"

She tries to smile, "Of course." and then lets him in.

When Jay goes over to see Mal he sits across from her on the edge of Evie's bed, "How are you doing?"

Mal laughs, "Crappy. Note to self: cooking wine isn't edible." and then she groans. "I have the worst headache ever."

Jay is quiet for a second, "I would offer you some aspirin, but I think your body is pushing enough toxins out the way it is."

"It's fine," Mal comments. "I've never used those pills before anyway. Why start now?"

"Mal," Jay starts. "You need to tell me what happened."

It takes a moment for her to respond, "Nothing."

"Stop saying it's nothing. It's never nothing. It's always something. Just tell me what it is. What happened?"

Mal slightly laughs, "Ben."

"What did he do?" Jay accuses.

She smiles, "Nothing. He's so nice and kind." but then she frowns again. "How could I compare him to him?"

"Compare him to who?" Jay questions, but she doesn't respond. "Mal. You know how this goes. You need to talk to me."

"She's exhausted," Evie defends. "Maybe you shouldn't be interrogating her right now."

Jay looks over at Evie, "I'm not interrogating her."

"You're asking her questions— interrogating her— because she drank, which might as well be seen as some sort of crime." Jay looks down for a moment. "I never understood this, either. How is bringing up the things she wants to forget a good thing?"

"Because she needs to work through them," Jay sternly responds. "She can't just keep bottling all this stuff up, until she goes grabs another bottle."

"Okay," Evie lets out a breath in defeat, "but she is sick. Is now really the best time for you to get her to talk? In her condition, I don't think she will be grabbing another bottle any time soon anyway."

"Just one last thing," Jay gives in, before he turns back to Mal. "Is it Hook? Is that who you were comparing Ben to?"

Mal shuts her eyes and mumbles, "He deserves so much better than me."

"Mal," Evie steps forward. "You know what Ben said before. He's lucky to have you."

She rubs her face back-and-forth on the pillow, "He doesn't know anything about me… He will change his mind. He won't want me…"

"How could you say that?" Evie debates, "Of course he will."

"No," Mal softly denies. "Not after… I've been ruined."

"Ben doesn't care about your reputation. He cares about you."

Mal keeps her eyes shut, "He doesn't know me. None of you…"

"Mal," Jay prompts, but she doesn't open her eyes. "Mal. What do you mean, we don't know you?"

"Give it up," Evie comments. "She needs to sleep."

He turns to her, "Don't you want to know what she meant?"

"No," Evie evenly answers. "Mal has the worst self-esteem ever, maybe even more than me… It probably doesn't mean anything."

* * *

\- So, something I should mention... I can't find the link that I got this information from when I first researched this and I can't remember the phrases I used to find it, but apparently when you have a salt overdose you're not supposed to drink water (even when you are human). I think it was something about how there would be salt around the brain, and since water goes to where the salt is it's a major health risk? Basically, if you overdose on salt, the best thing you can do is go to the hospital.


	72. I Wouldn't Change a Thing

**I Wouldn't Change a Thing**

 **(Day 43: Sunday Night)**

When Ben enters the dining room his mother smiles at him, "Hi, honey. How was your day?" before she eyes the area around him. "Where's Mal?"

Ben sits down across from her, "Things have been… eventful. And Mal is sick."

"Sick?" His mother worries, "It's not the flu, is it? She needs to be well for the hearing."

He frowns, "I don't know what it is." as he glances down at the dark wood. "All I know is that I'm not allowed to see Mal and that Evie seems to think that she's sick because of me."

"Because of you?" she questions. "How could that be?" He shakes his head. "You two had dinner out, right? Could it be food poisoning?"

"No." Ben looks back up at her, "We ate the same thing."

"What about the drinks?"

Ben pauses for a moment, "I don't think she actually drank anything at all." His mother hums. "Also. It seemed like Evie was upset about me not watching Mal close enough, so whatever made her sick, it probably happened after dinner."

She nods, "And Evie, that's Mal's friend?"

"She's Mal's best friend," he stressfully corrects, "and also her roommate."

When Mrs. Potts comes in with the final dish his mother says, "Thank you." before returning her attention to him. "Don't worry about it. She can't keep you from seeing Mal forever."

"Not with the hearing coming up anyway," Ben acknowledges. "But, still. She trusted me to take care of Mal." He's quiet for a second, "What if it really is my fault that she got sick, because I wasn't keeping close enough of a watch on her or something?"

His mother pours herself a glass of milk, "You can't keep an eye on everything she does." and then Ben pours some into his own glass. "Besides, you can't possibly know it's your fault if you don't even know what she's sick with."

Ben nods, but then he looks down at his empty plate, "She said I needed a better excuse for not taking care of my girlfriend."

"Excuse?" she inquires.

Ben looks back up at her, "I was too embarrassed to explain myself, so I gave a very generic, lame excuse instead." He quiets for a moment, "Should I tell Evie the truth?"

She places a couple scoops of the beef ragu onto her plate, "That's up to you."

"Mom."

She looks at him, "You know the situation better than I do. Only you can decide the best way to handle it."

He watches as she places some mixed vegetables onto her plate, "You're not going to wait for Dad?"

She attempts to smile, "He's not feeling well. I suggested for him to get some fresh air and take a walk around the grounds."

"Will he be joining us afterwards?"

"If he does," his mother takes a stressed breath, "then it will be against my better judgement." Ben starts to dish up himself. "Oh! Speaking of judgement, we're having Aurora's family over for dinner tomorrow."

Ben hums, "And whose idea was that?"

"I believe it was Audrey's. Apparently she's worried about you."

He shakes his head, "She's always worried… trying to save me." as he pushes some items around the plate with his fork.

"You don't need to worry about that anymore," his mother answers before taking a bite, and then he looks up at her. "It is a Christian woman's duty to make sure her husband keeps his faith, but now that you two are no longer dating she has no reason to do that."

Ben stabs a piece of the meat, "I hope so. That was probably the most stressful part of our relationship, having to put up with all of that… even more stressful than her cheating."

His mother puts her fork down for a second, "Ben." and it's quiet as they stare at each other for a moment; however, then she glances down. "I know that we've told the public that our family is perfect…" She looks at him again. "I would hate to think that you look at the relationship I have with your father and think it's normal." She folds her hands together, "I don't want you to aim for what we have. You deserve better than that."

"But you love each other, and you're happy," Ben defends. "That's all I want, is to be happy and loved."

"And we do love each other," she nods. "However, we aren't always happy." He watches as she takes a sad breath and pinches the tears off of her eyelashes, and then she reaches for his hand. "Things in a relationship can build up… feelings can build up. And, yes, it's important to stick by your partner and try to be understanding, but it's just as equally important to feel for yourself and do what's best for you."

Ben it quiet for a second, "I don't understand."

She seriously explains, "Whoever you're dating, I don't want you to just ignore the things they do, especially if the things they're doing are repetitive. If she tells you that she's sorry but continues to do it anyway, if she gives you some lavish gift to apologize, I don't want you to have to take it. I want you to ask yourself how you feel about it. If it feels wrong, then I want you to trust that instinct. Because, if she doesn't change, that feeling can only build, and I don't want you caught between sad and happy times. All I want for you is to be happy."

Ben hesitates, "Has Father ever done something that left you with a wrong feeling?"

She attempts to smile, "You know how he gets. The curse impacted him very negatively, gave him a lot of stress at such a young age… and it caused him to grow into a very angry man." Ben's frown deepens. "He loves me. He loves both of us, and these… outbursts of his, he can't help it. I know that." She looks down and shuts her eyes, "But, yes, because all he can do is apologize for his actions, it has left me with an unsettling feeling." When she opens her eyes again Ben can see the tears glistening in them. "I don't want you to go through what I have to. I want you to enjoy the good times with the person you're with without second-guessing it."

He looks down at his plate, "Do you second-guess your relationship with him?" before he looks up to see her answer.

She hesitates, "I do have regrets." but then her smile widens as she squeezes his hand. "But I wouldn't change a thing. I'm happy right where I am: here with you."

Ben opens his mouth before asking, "If I wasn't here, would you still be here?"

Her smile drops, "I wouldn't have left your father. I loved him too much for that."

"And you still do." he inquires.

She laughs, "Yes. Of course I do." but Ben compares her grin to the one Mal has made several times now.

"There's something you're not telling me."

She pulls her hand away from his, "I've told you all you need to know. Your father and I love each other, and I'm happy here. Nothing else matters." Ben doesn't respond, only observing her intently. "Now, go on. Eat. You haven't taken a single bite yet."

"Right." Ben looks down at his plate and picks up his fork, "It's really good." before he begins to eat.

* * *

-I'd really like to know what you think of this chapter. Leave a response.

\- Don't mind the update of this chapter. I just had to correct a capitalization error.


	73. A God Damn Thing

**A God Damn Thing**

 **(Day 44: Monday Night)**

The next night at dinner Ben sits to his mother's right, as their guests sit across from them. Audrey sits directly across from him, her grandmother to her right and her parents next to her grandmother. As the food is brought out to them, Audrey's father comments, "Thank you for hosting this meeting. I know how short notice it was."

"Not to mention that you invited us to dinner at our own castle," Ben mumbles.

His mother sighs, "Phillip. Don't worry about it. If it makes things easier on the kids, then I'm glad to host the meeting here."

"Thank you," Aurora manages, but then Ben speaks again.

"Why are you here, exactly?"

Queen Leah's mouth gapes open, "Are you just going to let him speak like that to us?"

"Grandmother," Audrey uneasily replies, "it's fine."

"No. It isn't," she insists as she looks at Ben's mother. "You need to teach your son some manners."

"Ben," his mother quietly addresses, "I know this isn't the easiest time for you, but can you please stop being so crass and at least try to be patient?"

Ben continues to stare over at Audrey, "I just want to know why they're here."

"We will get to that," her father interrupts, "but first things first." He places his palms face up, "Let's say grace and fill our plates." before his mother and wife take his hands.

Ben watches as Audrey accepts her grandmother's hand, before she stretches her other out towards him. He stares down at it for a moment, and then he looks up to find his parents eying him. He takes a deep breath before taking Audrey's hand, and when he offers his other hand to his mother they follow his lead. Looking back at Audrey, he watches her smile, "Father of us all, this meal is a sign of Your love for us." and after he sees the others shut their eyes he shuts his own. "Bless us and bless our food, and help us to give You glory each day. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Thank you for family and friends. Thank you for times like these, where we can gather together, share in food, drink, and relax. Please bless this meal and all that it means. May the food nourish us, and may the fellowship enrich our lives. Most of all, may we always invite you into our homes and into our hearts. Amen."

Ben hears the echo, as he mouths the last word and opens his eyes. He watches as their families fill their plates, and he hears Audrey's family compliment her on the grace. "What does this meal mean?" He watches as her family turns to him and their smiles falter. "What are we supposed to be discussing?"

Audrey tries to keep her smile. "Oh. Benny— Ben." She tenses, "You have nothing on your plate. Wouldn't you like to eat something?"

He frowns, "I'd much rather like to know why you're here," as he focuses on her.

She lets out a breath, "I'm worried about you."

"So I've heard. What else?"

"Look." Audrey tries reaching for his hand, but then he removes his arm from the table and she looks back into his eyes. "You've been so different since those VKs arrived, and Mal… it's like she's got you wrapped around her finger." Ben pours himself a glass of milk. "I think she might have you under a spell." He snickers, trying to hold back his laughter. "This isn't funny. This is serious."

"Yeah." Ben retorts, "This is seriously insane." as he smiles. "I'm not under the influence of some love potion."

"We can't know that," she disagrees.

Ben slightly nods, "No. I'm pretty sure we can, and you want to know how?"

"How?" Audrey frowns in doubt.

He grins, "I know that I'm not under the influence of a love potion, because I'm not performing a dance number in front of the entire school, saying that I will give my kingdom away for a single kiss."

Her mouth gapes open, "So, she did spell you."

"It's a potion, not a spell," Ben corrects. "And secondly, it only lasted about a day. It wore off on our first date, when I went swimming in the enchanted lake." He nods, "Also, Mal gave me the anti-love potion before the coronation, because she thought it would be too cruel for me to still be in love with her after the villains took over the land. So, technically, I should love her even less than I do, but somehow I don't. I just still really like her."

Audrey huffs, "How can you like her?"

"Well, I liked her even before I was given the potion. So, there's that," Ben analyzes. "And then there's that she's just a very nice girl who isn't afraid to be real with me."

"Nice?" Audrey hisses. "She attacked me."

Ben looks down, "That was an accident."

"An accident," Audrey repeats as she furrows her eyebrows at him. "What? Did she just fall on my arms? All the things she said, was that just a slip of the tongue? Hey! Maybe she was drunk. Maybe when she moved in to kiss me she just thought I was you, with my nice, long hair and ruffled skirt." She hysterically smiles, "I could have just been you."

Ben falls silent, but he still manages to glare at her before her father interrupts. "With all due respect, Ben, I saw the video myself. You can't just claim it was an accident."

"She doesn't even remember it," Ben defends to him, before he glances back at Audrey. "And, no. She wasn't drunk."

"So, just because she doesn't remember it," Phillip continues, "is that supposed to make what she did any less horrible?" Ben doesn't speak. "Your girlfriend assaulted my daughter— and attempted to do worse. She attempted to kiss her. Aren't you upset at all?"

"Of course, I'm upset," Ben answers. "This entire thing is upsetting, but whatever Mal did— or tried to do— it was just for heat. It was for survival, and the only reason why she chose Audrey was because Audrey was hosting the event that caused all the hot water to run out. I'm sure that if Chad was the one hosting the event, then she would have tried to kiss him instead… and since he probably wouldn't even have minded, there probably wouldn't be a lawsuit for us to fight over in the first place."

When no one speaks Ben's mother comments, "Accidents happen." as she looks over the guests. "We cannot view this as some black and white assault. She wasn't trying to fulfil some sexual desire. All she needed was heat, and… I don't think we can blame her just because she has to get that heat from a direct source. Do you?"

Aurora replies, "Are you suggesting that the only reason why my daughter was attacked by that monster was because it's a hybrid dragon?"

"She," Ben sternly replies. "But, yes. It is probable that if Mal had the luxury of generating her own body heat as the rest of us, then the incident may have never even occurred."

"Well, that's not the case, is it?" Leah reminds him. "No. My granddaughter was attacked, and I expect justice for that monster's actions."

"We will drop the case under one condition," Phillip eyes them over. "We just ask that Mal is sent back to the Isle of the Lost where she belongs."

Ben watches as his mother furrows her eyebrows in disbelief. "We're not doing that."

"Just think about it," he gestures.

She feels her husband touch her shoulder, as though willing her to accept the idea, and then she puts a hand up, "No. Absolutely not. That poor girl has been so guilt-ridden by this already. We're not just going to further that feeling by confirming her fault and condemning her to that island."

"Feeling," Leah responds in disbelief. "You honestly think that monster has feelings?"

"Enough to attempt suicide. Yes," she tears up.

Audrey looks back at Ben, "Is that true?"

He doesn't speak, merely confirming it with his eyes before returning his attention to his mother. "What Mal did… it had to have been out of some instinct. She didn't mean to actually cause anyone any harm. If she did, then she wouldn't feel as bad about it as she does."

It takes a minute for Audrey's father to reply, "Instinct or not, she is a danger to the people of our land. If you won't do it for my daughter, then do it for them. Please. Reconsider our offer… Who knows? Maybe it would be better for her to live on that island, to be free to live her life and fulfil her needs without any constraints."

"Mal's not a wild animal," she denies. "She deserves better than that. She deserves a life of comfortable living and a chance at opportunity."

"Is there no way I can make you change your mind?" he calmly questions.

She shakes her head, "No. I'm afraid not." before she slowly nods. "It was an accident. Mal doesn't deserve to be punished for something she had so little control over."

"Accident," Leah spats. "What kind of horrific, unholy sin has to go on around here for all three of you," she points, "to be able to call this an accident?"

Audrey touches her arm, "Grandmother. Maybe we should leave."

She stands from the table, "You will get yours. You may be able to hide your sins from us, but on judgement day— when Jesus comes down to save all those who are good and pure— you will not be able to hide from Him. He sees all. He knows all."

"And He's all-powerful," Ben interrupts. "So, why didn't he keep your granddaughter safe? You always say that the sins of the father fall upon the children, so what is it? Did you do something He didn't like? Is that why He let Audrey get hurt?" Ben smiles, "I mean, if He's all powerful, then why wait to save us? If God knows everything, then why couldn't He stop Mal from hurting Audrey? Oh, right!" He realizes, "This is all preordained, isn't it? God already drew His path out for us a long time ago, back when He made His grand plan. Which means He wanted this to happen. He wanted Audrey to get hurt. He wanted Mal to be a sinner."

"Blasphemy. God gave us free will. What your little girlfriend did was her choice." The grandmother glares at him, "If you were my son I'd have washed your mouth with soap and water before you were even able to finish that statement."

Aurora places her hands on her mother's shoulders, "We should go, before anyone says anything they regret."

After her family makes it to the hallway Audrey sadly looks down at Ben, "I'll pray for you." before she begins to head out herself; however, when she makes it to the wide doorframe Ben stands angrily to his feet.

He yells, "You think that I've never prayed before?" She turns back to him, they all do. "Your god must be deaf. Either that, or he just doesn't care. Because, I used to pray, and I prayed a lot: nearly all day, every day. But even when I needed Him the most, He was never there to help me. He didn't do a God damn thing."

Audrey calmly replies, "That's not how prayer works. You can't pray for yourself. You have to be able to pray for the wellbeing of others."

"Yeah. Well," Ben huffs, "none of those worked either." She doesn't respond. "Face it. God doesn't care about us. If He does exist, we're nothing but pawn pieces in His little science experiment. He's not going to save us. The only ones who can save us are ourselves."

His mother places a hand on his arm, "Honey." and after a moment he sits down.

Audrey watches as he wipes the tears from his face, "Like I said, I'll pray for you."

His mother lets out an annoyed noise after Audrey leaves, before she looks down and around to see his face, "Hey. You okay?"

He shuts his eyes, as he feels her hand in his hair, "I don't know." Her hand moves to his shoulder. "I'm just so tired of everything… When can this just be over?"

"Soon," His mother promises. "Soon. The hearing will be all taken care of tomorrow, and the trial can't take any longer than just a short few weeks."

"God." Ben places a hand to his forehead, "Mom. That's twenty-one days."

"I—" She lets out a breath, "I know… but take it from someone who had to endure an unwanted situation for a long time." When Ben turns to her she wipes the tears away, "If you spend your time wisely, doing things you enjoy or which let you forget what's going on, then soon enough all the time that's passed will feel like nothing."

"Just focus on your schoolwork," his father suggests, "and make time for your friends."

Ben doesn't respond, merely staring back down at his empty plate. "We should finish dinner," his mother notices. "We have cheesy potatoes. I know how much you like those." He shakes his head. "Honey. You should have something."

"I know," Ben manages, "and I will." He stands from the table, "Just not now."

After they watch Ben leave the room Adam comments, "He's just stressed, but don't worry. You know how he is. In a couple hours he will go into the kitchen and find a big bowl to mix all of this into." He wraps an arm around her, "It will be fine."

"It's a school night," She retorts. "And they have a curfew. He can't just show back up there at one in the morning."

"Shh," Adam hushes as he moves his hand up and down. "I bet that curfew is never enforced. It will be fine."

"I know," Belle sighs, before she leans her head on him. "I just wish he didn't have to deal with so much stress all the time."

"He's a strong, young man," Adam reminds her, "and he's got your wonderful mind." He kisses her on the head, and then she smiles. "You don't need to worry. I think he'll be just fine."

* * *

"Audrey. What's wrong?" her father asks as they ride in the car.

She hesitates, "Do you really think Mal tried to commit suicide?"

"What do you believe?"

She remembers the look in Ben's eyes, "I think it's true."

He slides forward, "Look, darling. I will stand by whatever you want to do, but I'm going to be the first to remind you that your feelings matter too. What she did to you, the pain she caused you, it doesn't lessen with the knowledge that she regrets what she did. Does it?"

Audrey looks down, "No." and she takes a couple unsteady breaths before looking back up. "But I'm supposed to be able to forgive her, aren't I? I mean, that's what a good Christian does, is offer forgiveness." She gulps, "And she tried to apologize."

"But she hasn't atoned for her actions," Audrey's father reminds her. "In order to be truly forgiven, you not only need to acknowledge your wrongdoings. You also need to be able to offer yourself up to the judgement of the Lord."

"Or the legal system," she recognizes.

"If she truly regrets what she did, then she will be granted mercy. And then, her transgression will be forgiven."

Audrey begins to cry, "I— I don't know how to." and her mother wraps an arm around her. "I want to. I really do, but… how can I just accept it was an accident?" She takes a couple deep, slow breaths, as the realization hits her. "She's not the only one."

"What?" her father questions.

Audrey wipes the tears from her face, "Ben's mother. She said it was instinct, that Mal only did it out of some hybrid instinct."

"I know that's what she said," he carefully begins.

"And if that's true." She shakes her head, "If that's somehow true, then Mal isn't the problem here. It's because of what she is. If she really only did what she did because of what she is, then there's got to be more hybrids out there who can't control themselves. There could be more people out there, like me, who've been hurt by those things."

Her grandmother asks, "What are you saying?"

Audrey's quiet only for a mere second, as she nods at how right the idea is, "If any hybrid can be just as dangerous as Mal is, then locking her up isn't going to solve the problem. We deserve to know when we're in danger, not just realize what one of these hybrids are after they attack us. I want them to have to make themselves known, not just hide and pretend to be human like Mal did." She shakes her head, "Make them wear something or something so that we can tell when one is nearby." She glances around at her silent family, before she unsurely looks back at her dad, "What do you think?"

It takes him a moment to comment, "I said I would support whatever you decide. If this is how you get closure from what happened, then I'm here for you."

"We're all here for you," her mother responds.

Audrey partly smiles as she looks over the three of them, "Thank you. So much." before she laughs and hugs her mother. "You're the best family I could have ever had."

* * *

\- Personally, I think it's okay when a Christian prays for you... I mean, it's not like it's going to hurt you. All it can do is make them feel better about things. However... There are times when it can get to the point where they solely rely on prayer. There were times when my mom would force me to pray with her nearly every day, because of everything that was going on. All I wanted was to be able to go to her and be like, "Please. This is horrible. Can you help me?" and the first thing she did was have me pray with her. Sometimes nothing even came after that. All I wanted was to come up with a solution to stop the problem, and all she had us do was pray. It was so nerve wrecking. I hated wasting time on that when such horrible, stressful things were happening... Really. It just made things worse. I think there may have even been times where I questioned asking for her help or telling her what's wrong at all... I understand religion has a purpose for those who worship, but when it comes to important things... You just can't rely on God for everything. You need to be able to help yourself too. When someone is asking for your help, they're asking for your help. If they wanted God's help (assuming they haven't already tried) then they'd just ask for His. Unless you're a pastor or priest (or some other denomination), then when someone asks you for help you should just help them... I feel like having God help the person instead of you would be like, "Hey. Person I hardly know, can you help my best friend here? They asked me for help, but I think you would do a much better job at it." It's like WTF. You don't even know them. You've never spoken to them face to face before. They could hate my guts for all we know. Why are you asking them to help me, when I specifically asked you (someone I trust) to help me? I mean, seriously.


	74. Something Bad

**Something Bad**

 **(Day 45: Tuesday Noon)**

"I knew I'd find you here."

Evie rolls her eyes at the sound of Ben's hopeful voice, before she and Doug turn from the countertops, "You have some nerve interrupting my lunch hour again."

Ben half smiles, "It's not like you're going to be eating anyway."

"Ben," Doug sternly interrupts. "That's why she's here, is to eat."

"Okay. Well," Ben shakes his head as he takes a step forward. "This will only take a moment." He finds her unamused and so clasps his hands together, "Evie. I—"

She presses the button on the blender and smiles, as Ben frowns and his hands drops to his sides. "Sorry. What was that?"

"I—" The grinding sound erupts from the blender again; however, when it stops he takes a deep breath and tries again, "I—" The sound interrupts him again, and then he widens his eyes at her before yelling, "Would you just let me explain?"

Doug taps Evie's arm, and when she looks at him he comments, "He really tries not to get mad. Please, don't upset him."

Evie huffs and then turns back to Ben, "Fine. What do you want?"

He wets his lips as he takes a step forward, "You said I needed a better excuse for not looking after Mal."

She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows, "You've got a better one for me?"

"I wasn't trying to make up an excuse last time," Ben responds as he rubs his hands together and glances down, before he takes another step and looks up at her. "I was just too scared to tell you the full truth."

Evie uncrosses her arms and tilts her head up, "I'm listening."

"You see…" He takes a couple short breaths, "I don't know if I can do this."

"You want to gain my trust back, don't you?" Ben merely looks at her, mouth cracked open. "You want to see Mal again? Prove that you're more than just some sleazy guy."

Ben takes a deep breath, "Well." He looks down for a second. "You know about sleep?" She gives him an odd look. "I've kind of had this thing where I don't really do that."

She takes a step forward, "What do you mean?"

He pauses, "After I quit the tourney team I found myself with more energy than I know what to do with… I still exercise and everything, but it doesn't seem to do that much." They stare at each other for a moment, before he glances down and continues, "I was going practically a full week without sleep, and every aspect of my life was suffering. So, I… I started to take something to sleep." He confesses, "That's why I couldn't wake up when Mal needed me. I wanted to be able to sleep when she was asleep."

Evie nearly laughs, "Why didn't you just say this before?"

Ben shuts his eyes, "I was scared and embarrassed." before he observes her expression. "I still am… The thing I've been using to sleep, I'm not exactly using it for it's designed purpose." She looks down for a second. "I didn't want anyone to know. No one can know."

She looks at him for a second, "Does Mal know?" He shakes his head. "She deserves to know. You need to tell her why you couldn't be there for her."

"Yeah. I know." Ben shakes his head, "But does it need to be so soon?" He sees her look, "I don't want her to see me any differently because of the problems I have."

"You're afraid that she won't want you anymore," Evie guesses.

Ben lets out a slow breath, "Yeah."

Evie partly smiles, "She feels the same way about you."

"What?" Ben questions.

She takes another step forward, "Mal thinks that if you get to know her better, then you won't like her anymore."

He shakes his head, "How could she think that?"

"How could you think that about her?" Evie rebuttals.

"I'm king," Ben explains. "People expect me to be perfect."

"And Mal thinks she's not good enough for you," Evie refutes. "So, why don't you just tell her you're a normal guy with normal expectations and everyday problems?"

"Well, my problems aren't exactly the most normal," he unsurely replies.

"Neither are Mal's." She touches his shoulder, "You will be fine." and when the timer goes off Evie rushes over to the oven. "Ooh. The cookies are done."

"Cookies?" Ben questions.

"Apparently, she likes to cook," Doug answers, and Evie lays the tray on top of the stove just as Ben walks over and reaches for one; however, he pulls his hand back in hesitance.

He points at them, "These aren't spiked with potion, are they?"

She laughs, "No. Help yourself."

"Thank you," he happily responds as he attempts to take one from the metal platter, but before he can the tips of his fingers are burned and he pulls away.

Evie smiles, "Maybe you should wait."

"No." Ben furrows his eyes at the challenge, "I've got this." before he carefully plucks one up and takes a bite out of it. "Mmm." He rests the large cookie in his hand and goes to grab some more; however, when the fifth one is piled on top he sees Evie observing him intently in question, before he frowns and puts three of them back. "You're a good cook. I should probably give other people a chance to eat them too." She doesn't respond. "So! Are you, ah, going to the hearing this afternoon?"

She gives him an odd look, "Am I allowed to come? I thought it was just the… what's it called? The legal team?"

"Well, ah, yes," Ben attempts to smile. "But, uh, I think we can make an exception for Mal's best friend, if you do want to come."

Evie is quiet for a minute, "Yeah. I think I would like that."

"Okay. Yeah. Good," Ben quickly responds as he slowly moves back towards the door. "I will let my parents know."

Evie watches him turn around and exit, "What was that?"

"He gets anxious a lot," Doug explains as she walks towards him.

"Hmm." She sits down, "You didn't know about his sleeping issues, did you?"

"I'm his roommate."

"Oh, right." Evie pauses, "How does… Does it affect him?"

"Well," Doug starts, "on the nights he doesn't sleep he studies."

She shakes her head, "And?"

"And," Doug slowly responds, "I'm pretty sure that when he studies he's also eating like an extra thousand calories each night."

Evie's eyebrows rise, "A thousand?"

"It might be more like seven hundred," Doug hurries. "Protein bars can range anywhere between two hundred to six hundred calories. There's no way to know for sure."

She gives him a look, "You weren't— I don't know— curious at all?"

He takes a breath, "Look. Ben says he just has a fast metabolism, and he is an athlete. So—"

"So, nothing," Evie interrupts. "He quit the team. He's not an athlete anymore. The amount of food he's eating is unacceptable."

Doug is quiet for a second, "Being an athlete isn't an occupation. It's a lifestyle."

"I don't care," she nearly shouts. "No one eats three thousand calories a day."

He calmly responds, "Well, Ben does… and, technically, it would probably be more like four thousand."

"And you think that's okay?" she accuses.

It takes him a minute to reply, "It's not like he's gaining any weight from it for anything. If he were, then, yeah, I might be a little more worried. But since he isn't…" He shakes his head, "Evie. Maybe he just needs it. You ever think about that?"

She swirls the straw around in her drink and mutters, "No one needs four stupid thousand calories a day."

He watches her push the smoothie away, "You should drink that."

Evie shakes her head, "No. I can't do this today."

"Says who?" Doug sternly questions.

An image of Evie's mother flashes in her mind, "No one… I just— I don't think I can do this today."

"Why?" She doesn't respond. "Is it because of Ben?"

She shuts her eyes hard, "No. It's not Ben."

"Then why?" he questions.

Evie widens her eyes at him, "Because bad things happen. Okay? When I eat…" She shakes her head. "Something bad always happens."

"You mean, like gaining weight," Doug guesses.

"No," Evie lets out a breath. "I mean, yes, but no… It's just bad things in general."

It takes him a moment to ask, "Like what?"

Evie remembers her mother's stern expression, "Don't eat that."

She huffed as she cut the cake slice with her fork, "What are you going to do? Lock me up again?"

"No." Evie stopped midway as she moved the fork to her mouth. "If you eat it, then this time I'll just have to lock up your little girlfriend instead."

Evie set the fork back onto the plate, "She's not my—"

"You dare lie to me!" She saw as her mother pulled the mirror out of her red dress. "It's been watching you."

"Mother. I—"

"You've betrayed us." She leaned back onto the counter, as her mother came closer to her. "Is this what you really want," the Evil Queen gritted her teeth, "to be a fucking dyke for the rest of your life?"

Evie let out a soft breath, "No. Of course, not."

"Are you sure about that?" her mother doubted as she drew nearer to her. "That's why you've been eating all this crap, isn't it?" She grabbed the plate out of Evie's hands and threw it against the wall, causing it to shatter to pieces. "You want to be fat, don't you? You want to make yourself ugly so that guys won't like you anymore, isn't that right?"

She kept her eyes shut, as she could feel her mother's breath against her face, "No."

"What was that?" her mother pulled at the roots of her hair, and she yelped. "I didn't hear that. Speak louder."

"No," Evie says again, more confidently this time, before she opens her eyes. "I want to be beautiful. I want guys to like me. I really, really do."

The Evil Queen let go of her, "I'm glad to hear that." but as Evie felt the tears streaming down her face she watched as her mother came in to hug her. "Oh. My poor, little evilette." She placed her hands on her shoulders, "You won't have to rely on that poor excuse of a girl for attention forever. You can be beautiful." She glanced up at the pan in disgust, "You've just got to stop eating all this trash. Okay?"

Evie nodded, "Yes. I'll stop."

"You've better," her mother warned as she stood to full height. "Ugh. Look at this." She looked at the broken plate and the white frosting stuck to the stone wall. "Look at the mess you've made." Her mother eyed her again, "Clean it up, and don't you dare let it happen again."

"Evie?"

She looks up at Doug, "What if Mal gets hurt?"

"What?" he asks in confusion.

"The hearing is today. What if it goes bad?"

"Evie," Doug frowns. "You don't honestly think that if you eat, then Mal's hearing will go bad." She looks down again, and he lets out a sad breath.

"Something bad always happens," she whispers before looking back up at him. "I can't do this, not if it means something bad happening to her."

"Nothing bad is going to happen to her," he promises.

"You can't know that," Evie denies.

He looks down for a second, "You're right. I can't." before he looks back up. "But what I do know is that if something bad happens, it will not be because of what you do or don't eat." Evie shakes her head. "What? You don't believe I'm telling you the truth." She merely looks at him, and then he takes a stressed breath. "Ugh." He presses his glasses to the ridge of his nose, "Evie… I know you don't know this." He eyes her for a moment. "But the way you're thinking, it's really messed up. Have you talked to someone about this, like a professional?"

She looks away from him, "I'm not seeing anyone. They're going to call me crazy… Everyone thinks I'm crazy."

Doug innocently replies, "I don't think you're crazy."

She smiles at him, "That's sweet, but you hardly know me."

"Then let's get to know each other a little better."

"What?" she frowns.

"No. I just—" He tenses, "Since you don't want to have lunch, I thought maybe we could have dinner together instead… you know, after the hearing."

"Dinner?" she uneasily questions.

"Yeah." Doug hopefully smiles, "With like potatoes and gravy, and cooked carrots."

She smiles unsurely, "I don't know—"

"Please," he insists. "If it makes you feel better, it doesn't have to just be the two of us. We can sit out in the cafeteria."

"You mean, like with Ben?" she hesitates.

"Ah, no." He explains, "Ben usually has dinner with the team— or actually— you know, sometimes I don't know where he goes, but we won't be sitting with him."

"Then who?" she inquires.

He shrugs, "What about your friends?"

"My friends?"

"You know," he slowly explains, "Carlos, Jay… Mal."

"Oh, ah," she attempts to smile. "No."

"Why not?"

"Why do you want to see my friends?" she loudly asks back.

It takes him a minute, "They're important to you. I thought I should get to know them."

"Well, you're not my boyfriend," Evie retorts, "so I don't need to introduce you to them."

Doug glances down, "I know I'm not your boyfriend… I'm just trying to be a good friend, make sure that the progress we've made with your eating isn't undone by some stupid, irrational fear you have."

"It's not irrational," Evie denies, but she turns away at the sight of his doubt. "Um… We can just have dinner in here tonight." She whispers, "I can't bear the idea of people seeing me. And the cafeteria is always filled with people taking dumb pictures… I can't get caught."

Doug nods, "Alright. We can eat here tonight."

She partly smiles, "Thank you."

He smiles back, "Thank me for what?"

"For trying to be understanding."

He lets out a breath of relief, "Good. I've really been trying to be."

* * *

\- I know I probably should have written the chapter for the hearing before posting this set, but I just really wanted to get them out there. What do you think of the flashback? Is the Evil Queen horribly horrible or is the scene just that horrifically great? Let me know what you think of these chapters. Predictions are always great to read too. I've had people post predictions before, even when they're like twenty chapters behind. It doesn't make the comments any less fun to read. Trust me.


	75. Your Honor

**Your Honor**

 **(Day 45: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"State your name for the court, please."

She stares up at the judge, "Mal Bertha."

"Prior to your stay in Auradon, you were a resident of the Isle of the Lost. Is that correct?"

Mal slightly nods, "Yes. It is."

"Have you ever committed a felony before?"

The lawyer whispers in Mal's ear, "A felony would include arson, or setting fire to a building, the production of drugs, and aggravated assault."

"No, Your Honor," she quickly responds.

He nods, "And what is your species?"

She slowly answers, "I am a hybrid of dragon and fairy heritage."

"Where does this heritage come from?"

"My mother," Mal begins. "Her mother was a fairy and her father was a dragon."

"You mean to say," the judge corrects, "that he was a dragon hybrid like you."

"No," Mal looks down for a second. "He was a full dragon." She feels eyes on her, and when she turns around she can see the doubt in Adam's eyes; however, even though it looks as though Belle also has her doubts she seems more concerned than anything. _The same concern I saw when she took that knife from me_. Looking to Belle's left, Mal can see Ben is focused on the situation, and one more person over is Evie, offering her a sad, supportive smile.

"Alright," the judge continues on. "What about your father?"

She turns back to the judge, "I was told he was human."

"Have you never seen him?" the judge inquires.

"No," Mal admits. "I only know what my mother told me."

"So, there's a chance that your father may not have been human at all," he accuses.

The lawyer interrupts, "Your Honor, I would like to remind the court that fairies are considered a human species; therefore, just by looking at her mother's side, it can be determined that she is in fact a hybrid and not just some creature."

There's a long pause before the judge states, "Mal Bertha. You have been accused of aggravated sexual assault in reference to the victim Princess Audrey Lee. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," she answers.

The judge nods, "The trial will begin on the morning of Monday the twenty-third, nine o'clock sharp. Until then—" He shouts, "Bailiff." before looking down upon her. "You will be held in contempt of the court."

"In contempt of court?" Ben furiously whispers.

The bailiff forces to turn Mal around. "What?" she shakily questions as she looks over her shoulders, and when she feels the cold metal caress her wrist she twists herself back around and pushes the buff guy away. "Don't touch me!" Surprisingly, he listens, but when she looks down it's too late. The metal restraint is already hooked onto her, and as she fails to pull it off her breathing quickens.

The judge yells, "Hey. No magic in the courtroom."

"Mal?" She hears Evie's voice and turns around. She's the one with the long hair. She's standing right in front of her left.

Mal shuts her eyes as she pulls at the metal again, "Get it off." and when she opens her eyes she pulls even harder. "Off. Off me."

"Stop it," Evie says as she fails to take Mal's hand away from the handcuff. "You're hurting yourself."

After she says, "Off." again she notices the hot heat signature coming towards her.

Ben breaks the handcuff apart and shows it to her for a second, "It's off." before he places it over the bench. "It's off. It's okay now."

"I—" She can't get any more words out. Her breathing won't settle down. It's short, too short, like the air isn't even making it to her lungs. "I—"

"Mal?" Evie worries.

"Bailiff." The judge instructs, "Restrain her." but even though the bailiff takes a few steps towards Mal, he doesn't touch her.

Ben watches as Mal brings a hand up to her chest, as though testing for a heartrate, "Focus on my voice." She looks up at him. "Try to take a deep breath."

"I—"

"Bailiff," the judge yells even louder. "Do your job or I will have to report you."

"Don't speak," Ben instructs. "Just breathe."

She tries to, but the breaths are still too shallow and she doesn't know how to change that. Her heart is pounding too, as she can feel the pain in her chest. Is this a heart attack? Could she be dying? "I—" After she cuts off the sentence again Mal can feel the hand turn her as the other is placed onto her face, and it's not a moment later that the kiss is felt. The lips aren't hot, but they're soft. They're soft and warm.

When the two girls break apart Ben watches Mal's eyes open, and when they do he notices the bright green glow is gone. "Are you okay?"

Mal takes in a couple deep breaths, before she smiles in relief, "I think so."

"What did you do to the bailiff?" the judge accuses.

Evie turns to the judge, "She just hypnotized him not to touch her, but it will wear off. She didn't hurt him."

"I'll be the judge of that," he sternly replies. "Magic isn't allowed in the court of law. It's a crime in of itself."

"She wasn't doing magic," Evie denies.

Ben steps in, "Your Honor." and he looks down upon him. "Please. She was just scared. She doesn't understand what's happening here. Whether it was magic or not, is it truly a crime if she thought she was just defending her own safety?"

"I told her what was going on," the judge refutes.

"By using legal terminology that she's never heard before," Ben explains away. "And how can you hold her in contempt? She answered all of your questions, and she answered honestly. She referred to you with respect. She didn't do anything wrong."

"You honestly expect me to believe," the judge drones out, "that a full dragon and a fairy somehow managed to have offspring?" Ben licks his lips. "Only humanoid creatures can have humanoid offspring, and two creatures so different would never be able to have a child."

"Then how do you explain Mal?" Ben inquires. "How do you explain her mother?"

"As with humanoid fairies," the judge easily responds, "hybrid dragons must have simply evolved to what they are."

Ben shakes his head, not even bothering to question why Mal wouldn't be considered fully human if dragon hybrids evolved from humans as the fairies did. "She told you what she honestly believes to be the truth. Even if her mother somehow deceived her on this matter, then it doesn't mean that she believes it to be any less true. She was honest and respectful. She did not commit contempt." He watches the judge slowly nod in thought. "She has the right to bail."

The judge widely grins, and Ben feels the dread emanate from his laughter. He leans over his stand, "I don't mean any disrespect, King Ben, but I think you need to brush up on your law a little." Ben's frown deepens. "Title 7c of the Human Rights to Safety Act clearly states that if a hybrid is accused of a felony, then they have no right to bail."

"No," Ben insecurely disbelieves. "You're making that up."

"No, Son. He isn't." Ben turns to his father, and he watches him fold his glasses in his hands. "I drafted and signed that legislation myself. It exists."

Ben's jaw drops, "How? How could you do that?"

It takes a moment for his father to excuse, "It was a tough time. Humans were very fearful of any magical creature, and the hybrids themselves were forced into hiding until they were found out and hunted down." He eyes his glasses for a second. "Integration was needed, and drastic action was necessary."

"Integration?" Ben loudly recuses, "Hybrids already don't have decent medical care, and now you're telling me they don't have the same legal rights as humans either?" His father stays silent. "You call this integration? You know what the consensus says. Twenty-five. twenty-five percent," Ben infuriates. "That's the percentage of the people in our country who are hybrids. How could you do this to them?"

"Ben," his mother sweetly states, "back then it was a lot harder to gather information anonymously. We may have known that there were attacks on magical beings, but there was no way your father could have known that so many people were."

He sadly responds, "You were accused of being an enchantress once. If fairies and witches weren't considered to be human, then you could have faced the same lack of rights Mal does right now."

His mother shuts her eyes, and Ben swears he can see tears escaping them before his father takes her hand and replies, "I cannot tell you how much I regret what I did. I know it's made life difficult for a lot of people…" He looks down, "And some may not even know it." before he eyes his son again. "But to this day I don't know if anything else could have worked."

"Humans attack things they don't understand," Mal frowns in acknowledgement, before Ben turns to her. "It's because of your father that I can't be sentenced to death." She looks over at Adam and slightly nods, "I should thank him."

"Yes, yes. This is all sad," the judge interrupts, and then they face him. "However, because Mal is a hybrid accused of a felony and therefore not allowed bail, she will be brought to jail to be held until the trail." He glares down at Ben, his next words louder with spite, "And because you broke the handcuffs, we will just have to trust that she won't run." He looks over at Mal, "Because, if she does run or escape custody, then she will be presumed guilty and the trail will become null and void."

Ben sighs, "She won't run."

He smiles, "Good. Now, for you. You've destructed government property. As I'm sure you're well aware of, that means you will be fined for your actions."

"You mean that costume piece?" Ben stares up at him, "You're supposed to use police sanctioned handcuffs. Maybe if corners hadn't been cut, then I wouldn't have been able to break them. Such a code violation would actually cause this court to be the one fined."

"Hmm," the judge hums. "Are you saying you would like to settle this in court?"

Ben shuts his eyes before rolling them as he shakes his head, "You're lucky I don't have time for this trivial nonsense." He takes the checkbook from his pocket and begins to write, "The taxpayers will be happy to know I'm doing this out of my own pocket." before he goes over to hand the check to the judge. "Make sure it gets to whoever's in charge."

"Don't worry," the judge reassures. "No matter who cashes it in, it will be sent to the same account." Ben nods. "Now that this has been taken care of, I do have another group waiting." He looks over at the bailiff, "Take care of her."

The Bailiff looks at Mal, "Follow me." and as he starts walking towards the stands Mal follows; however, Ben grabs hold and hugs her.

"I'll visit you. I promise."

She starts to smile, as she watches him take her hand and kiss it, "Thank you."

He squeezes it for a moment, "We'll get you through this."

"That's enough," the bailiff interrupts.

Mal looks into Ben's eyes, "How did I ever find anyone as wonderful as you?"

He nearly smiles, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

The bailiff grabs Mal's arm to turn her around, "Come on. Your boyfriend said you'd cooperate. So, cooperate."

Mal glances over her shoulder, "Bye." as she's led towards the side door.

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon," Ben calls to her, and a second later she's gone.

"Hey. You okay?"

Ben puts the hand down from his eyes, before he turns and sees Evie, "Yeah. I'm fine." and with a glance at his parents he moves toward the isle. "Come on. We should leave."

When they exit the court room Ben follows his parents out the front doors, but it's then that a barricade of people stand in their way. He walks forward, making his way through, and he quickly moves, as a mic nearly hits his face. "King Ben. You've just come from the hearing. Is it true that your girlfriend committed sexual assault?"

"No comment," Ben ignores as he follows his parents down the stone steps.

Another reporter questions, "How does it make you feel to know that your current girlfriend attacked your ex-girlfriend?"

"No comment."

"Why isn't your girlfriend with you?" another one inquires. "Are you upset with her? Do you really believe she's guilty? Or has she been denied her right to bail?"

Ben stops in his step an angrily faces the reporter, before he yells over the chaos, "Mal is a hybrid. She has no rights." and with that there's a moment of silence; however, afterwards the reporters seem to erupt even louder than before. He pushes his way through and manages to make it to the black limo, his parents waiting for him, but as he takes a relaxing breath he glances around, "Where's Evie?"

His mother looks over his head, "It looks like she's not used to reporters."

Ben turns around and sees her blue hair through the surrounding cameras, before one of them moves out of the way and she's revealed. She's standing completely still, almost like in a daze, as she holds her hand over her eyes, trying to block the harsh lights. Ben lets out a stressed breath and moves towards the crowd, but when he reaches Evie he finds her on the ground. "Oh, no." He kneels down and props her up, "Evie."

A noise escapes her, and she whispers, "Mal?" as her eyes flutter open. "Ben?"

"Can you stand?" he hurriedly questions.

"Uh, yeah. I think so," she answers, before she grabs hold of his arm and he helps her to her feet.

"King Ben. Do you know this girl?" a reporter asks. When he doesn't answer, just trying to guide Evie out, more questions hit him. "Who is she? How do you know her?" He continues to walk. "Is she your new girlfriend?" another reporter asks.

Ben's mouth gapes as his eyebrows furrow, before he turns to the man and spats, "No. This is not my new girlfriend." He shakes head and eyes him in absurdity, "She's Mal's best friend, Evie. You might remember her from the coronation. She designed Mal's dress." This time he doesn't wait for the reporter to react, opting to instead get them out as soon as he can.

When they get into the car Ben sits across from Evie, and after he shuts the door his father directs the driver, "We're ready to leave."

It becomes quieter, as they get away from the news media, and when it becomes too quiet Ben looks at Evie, "Are you okay?"

She nods, "Yeah." as she frowns. "Uh, sorry for what happened back there. It was the camera flashes, I think." She glances down for a second. "It was just too much."

"It can be quite annoying," Ben agrees. "I don't know why they need the flash on during the day, but that's just how it is when you're famous." He uneasily smiles, "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It's fine," Evie downplays, before she looks out the window.

There's a minute of silence, where Ben looks over at his parents and find them quietly observing, before he turns back to Evie and brings up, "About what happened in the courtroom." She looks at him. "Does Mal get panic attacks a lot?"

"Panic attacks?" Evie questions.

"How she got so anxious that she couldn't breathe," Ben explains. "Has that ever happened to her before?"

"No," Evie answers. "Not that I know of."

"Then how did you know a kiss would stop it?" he questions.

Evie nearly smiles as a laugh escapes with her breath, "I didn't." before she looks down. "There was just this one time on the Isle, where, uh, Mal…" She looks back up at him, "I was so upset, and nothing she said was working. And, uh." Evie eyes the floor for a second, "She kissed me." and when she looks back up she sees Ben keep his eyes on her. "I figured that if it was able to calm me down, then maybe it would do the same for her." She laughs, "Actually, I wasn't really thinking at all. I just did it. But that's probably why." Ben slowly nods, his hands clasped, as he looks down. "What about you? If you knew a kiss would stop it, then why didn't you?"

Ben wets his lips and looks back up at her, "The idea of a kiss stopping a panic attack is just theoretical. It would just be because the person is holding their breath, and it's probably better to just get them to breathe instead. When your brain is deprived of oxygen it doesn't function as well, and to stop a panic attack you need to realize you aren't in any real danger." Evie hums in thought. "Also, with everything Mal has gone through I wouldn't have thought a kiss to actually work." He eyes her for a moment, "Mal must really trust you for it to work."

"Well. I am her best friend," she reminds him.

He slightly nods, "Yes. Of course."

After another moment of quiet Evie questions, "How does the whole court thing work? I mean… what will be brought up?"

"Well, considering the premise of the case," Ben begins. "They're probably going to start with what exactly happened that night, and then they might get into how Mal and Audrey know each other… Other people will be brought in to testify too."

"Will they ask about how she gets heat?" Evie questions.

"Assuming that they can wrap their minds around the idea that she can't just make her own," Ben raises his eyebrows, "then yes. That would probably be a concern of theirs."

She hesitates, "And… what about Mal's past history with getting heat?"

He tilts his head and nods, "It's definitely possible." before he notices her worry. "What is it?"

"Um," she laughs with unease. "It's just, uh…" She forces herself to stay still as she looks at him, "You've been great to Mal— really great— and I don't want you to be surprised by anything that they might bring up." He waits for her to continue. "As Mal's boyfriend, I think there's some things you deserve to know."

He's quiet for a second, "Like what?"

Evie looks down for a moment, "It's nothing that serious. There's just some things I think you should know before anyone else does." and then she eyes him for a second. "We should talk about it somewhere private."

"What's wrong with here?" Ben questions.

Evie glances at his parents, "No offense, but it's private. If it turns out not to be brought up during the trial at all, then Mal might be mad that I told you. I'm not going to tell it to your parents too."

"They're my parents," Ben excuses.

"They're not her boyfriend," Evie points out, and then a breath is heard escaping his nose. "You're a really nice guy, and you deserve to know these things. But, really, Mal should be able to tell people this herself." Evie rolls her eyes, "She should have been able to tell you this herself, but she can't."

"Why don't I just ask her tomorrow?"

Evie looks down, "One, because you don't know what to ask." before she widens her eyes at him in seriousness. "And two, because she wouldn't tell you."

"It can't be that horrible," Ben denies.

"It's not," she lets him know. "But just as it's hard for you to talk about some things, there are a lot of things Mal doesn't like to bring up."

"I'm her boyfriend," Ben negates. "She should be able to tell me these things."

"You just met her," Evie furrows her eyebrows at him. "She doesn't tell you anything."

Ben frowns before slowly stating, "She's told me things."

Evie shakes her head, "We're from the Isle, Ben. We all have a lifetime of things to share. That doesn't mean that we will." She shuts her eyes, "For crying out loud, I've been Mal's for three years and there's still some things she won't tell me."

Ben becomes quiet, but after the second of tense silence his mother interrupts, "What do you mean, you've been Mal's?" and at that Ben looks up again.

"Her friend. Her best friend," Evie softly interprets.

"That's not how it sounded," Belle carefully comments.

Evie stays quiet for a moment, "That's because it's not just a best friend thing. It does feel like she owns me sometimes, but..." She lets out a breath, "It's not a bad thing. I'm there when she needs me, and she protects me when I need it." She glances down, "It's just been that way since the beginning."

"When she needs you," Ben recognizes the words. "You're her heat source."

When Ben's parents stare at Evie she looks away from the sight, "Not as much anymore."

"But you were?" Ben insists.

"That's one of the things I thought you should know," Evie confesses, and she watches as he runs a hand through his hair in stress. "Ben—"

"It doesn't matter." He flattens his hair before straightening up, "If Mal's trial doesn't go well, then she won't be here for either of us."

* * *

\- Yay. The hearing is done. Now all that's left is the actual trial. I know, legal stuff is a painfully long and somewhat boring experience. Just hold in there. That's what the subplots are for, is for distracting you. Let me know if it works about five chapters from now... actually, it might even technically be two chapters from now.

\- **ThePeridotRanger**. Your dedication is remarkable. Thank you so much for reading. I hope I don't disappoint. Don't forget to continue commenting: likes, dislikes, and loves to hate on the referenced chapter. Glad to have you here.

\- Let me apologize for any confusing dialogue in this chapter. I wrote the first half of the chapter before I added in more dialogue from the judge (because it didn't seem like he would stand idly by and watch things play out), and so it may have made the back-and-forths a little more confusing.


	76. Safe

**Safe**

 **(Day 45: Tuesday Afternoon)**

When Ben enters his dorm Doug asks, "How did the hearing go?"

He looks evenly at him, "Evie and I have some things to discuss. Do you mind giving us a minute?"

"A minute or an hour?" Doug questions.

"An hour."

Doug nods, "Alright. Just let me gather some things."

Ben looks over at Evie, "Come on. Have a seat." but when she sits down that's when he notices the mess. "My apologies." He places the notebook inside the textbook before shutting it, "I haven't really had time to situate the place."

Evie stays silent as Ben gathers the cans, and Doug comments, "I'll be in the library." as he leaves the room. She smiles at him in acknowledgement, before she eyes the table again and picks up one of the large, brown wrappers. _Chocolate chip cookie dough. Thirty-two grams of protein_. She flips it over and scans the tiny font on the back. _Three hundred and sixty calories_.

When Ben snatches the wrapper from her hand she looks up at him, "Did you eat all of these in one night?"

He slides the wrappers off the round table into the waste bin, "My mind may have a hard time settling down, but my body still needs fuel to function." He takes two clear drinks out of the mini fridge and hands one to her. She eyes it suspiciously before shaking her head. "It's water."

She eyes it again, "That's not what it says."

"No," Ben irritably counters, "it's Propel, a sports' water specifically designed to hydrate and replenish electrolytes without any added sugar or carbonation. It's zero calories. It's safe."

"Sure. That's what it says," Evie disbelieves, "but I still don't trust it."

"Then trust me." Ben sits down, "Trust me. If it wasn't safe, then I wouldn't be drinking it myself."

She eyes the paper bag filled to the brim with aluminum cans, "What about those cans you cleared from the table? Are those safe?"

Ben's mouth opens, "Ah, no." as he glances down for a second. "They aren't." He looks up at her again, "Actually, studies have shown that diet soda promotes weight gain in the long run, whereas regular soda tends to have more short-term effects."

"Then why do you drink it?" she questions.

It takes him a moment to answer, "Because the idea of drinking a thousand empty calories every day is incomprehensible." and when he looks down again he presses a button on his watch three times.

"What are you doing?"

He looks up at her, "Hmm?"

"Your watch. You were doing something with it."

"Oh." Ben glances down at it, "Yeah. Uh, I was probably just checking my stats. Seeing the progress I've made used to make me feel a little happier or confidant in my abilities… I guess it turned into a habit."

"What do you mean by stats?" Evie questions.

"Well, you know," Ben begins. "How many miles you've walked. Your current heartrate. The—" He clears his throat, "The calories you've burned."

"You keep track of calories?" Evie asks with intrigue.

"No. I don't," Ben sternly denies, but that only causes Evie to smile. "You know, I can't. Between what the school serves and the dinner with my parents, it would be impossible. And now that I'm not in a sport there's no reason to count calories anyway." She continues to give him the same expression. "Look. Are we going to talk about calories all day, or are we going to discuss what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Evie takes a sip from her drink, "Doug was right. You get anxious a lot."

Ben takes a long, deep breath, "Yeah. I know."

"But I do love watching you squirm," Evie grins. "I think that one was even better than when I teased you about being fast."

He nearly rolls his eyes, "Don't remind me."

She puts the cap back on the drink, "The first thing you should know, I have been Mal's heat source for as long as I have known her." She tilts her head as she looks up in thought, "Or, well, at least pretty close to that."

"So, that would be three years," Ben guesses, and Evie confirms it with a nod. "How—" He glances down for a second, before he looks back up unsurely, "Do I want to know how you gave her heat?"

"Mal has major trust issues," Evie informs. "I doubt she did anything more with me than she has with you."

"Has she ever gone under your shirt before?" he insecurely questions.

"Well, skin to skin contact is the best way to give heat. As her main heat source of the time, it would pretty much have been a requirement." She watches him shut his eyes hard and face the table. "You okay?"

"I just—" He lets out a sad breath as he looks back up, "I thought I meant something."

"Ben," Evie full heartedly responds, "you do mean something."

"Really?" Ben questions. "What has she done with me that she hasn't done with some random heat source?"

"Date you," Evie furrows her eyebrows in response. "She dates you. She doesn't date her heat sources. You're more than that to her."

"You're her best friend," he counters.

Evie slightly shakes her head, "We had to call it something, but the reality is she just owns me… or at least she did." She feels the tears intrude her eyes, "Now that she has you…" She blinks. "I'm afraid she won't want me anymore." She gulps, "And then who would be there for me? Who would I talk to? Who would keep me from danger? Who would tell me that everything's going to be okay?"

He watches a tear fall to her cheek, before he reassures, "If she's doing all of those things for you, then that means she cares. You're more than just a heat source to her too."

Evie tries to smile, "That means a lot coming from you." before she wipes the tears from her face. "Ugh. I'm sorry. Here you are being all insecure, and I ruined it for you."

Ben laughs, "There are worse things to ruin."

She nods as she seethes, "Yeah. There probably are." They chuckle, but then she sees Ben's smile falter. "What is it?"

"Just… Mal." He's quiet for a second, "How do you think she's doing?"

Evie frowns, "That depends. Where they're keeping her, does it have hot water?"

Ben lets out a long breath as he shuts his eyes, "I didn't even think about that." She waits for his response. "I don't think it would be a lot. The prisons are public, which is good as far as incentive and treatment goes. But it also means that they're probably not allowed to take private donations. They would either be relying on public funding or small fundraisers."

"So, no hot water?" Evie questions.

"They would have hot water," Ben replies, "but that's what I thought the night of Audrey's event…So, maybe not."

"Yeah," Evie leans back. "Mal likes her water really hot."

"But, it's fine. I'll be visiting Mal, and when I do I'll just have to offer myself up to her." He smiles at Evie, "Like you told me I'd have to."

"Didn't take that long, did it?"

"No. It did not," Ben slowly answers before opening his drink. He takes a sip, "It's almost like you can see the future or something." Evie frowns in thought. "That was supposed to be a joke. I thought we were making jokes."

"Yeah. It's just—" She laughs it off, "I don't want you to think I'm crazy."

"Why would I think that?"

It takes her a minute to respond, "It's just—" She looks down. "Sometimes I do see things. It's not like a vision or anything," she quickly adds on before looking up. "It's real."

"Real?" Ben inquires.

"Like it's happening. Like, I can see it happening." She shakes her head, "But at the same time it's not real, because I'm the only one who can see it."

Ben looks at her unsurely for a moment, "Could you give me an example?"

She nods, "Yeah. Ah, there was this time when Carlos and I were walking through an alley, but I stopped because I saw someone getting stabbed in the stomach while being held up against that fence. Of course, then, uh, Carlos asked what was holding me up, and when I looked back at the fence the guys weren't even there anymore."

Ben almost smiles, "Well, that's not schizophrenia… at least, I don't think it would be."

Evie's mouth gapes open, "You do think I'm crazy."

"No. Of course, not," Ben states. "An episode of schizophrenia— or any episode of any kind, actually— would take far longer than just a single minute."

"But you were questioning it," Evie crosses her arms.

"I'm taking a psychology class," Ben explains. "Of course I was going to question it." She doesn't speak. "Look. Everyone has issues. It doesn't make you crazy."

"What's your issues," she counters.

Ben laughs, "You already know some of my issues. Insomnia. I can't sleep. Remember?"

Evie uncrosses her arms, "Oh. Right."

He smiles for a brief second, before he eyes the table, "Are you sure Mal's never had a panic attack before?"

"I've known her for three years," Evie reminds him. "Is it supposed to be a consistent thing? Because, if so, you would think that I would have caught one before."

"There are some people who can have them regularly," he comments, "but a lot of people can have them just a couple times. The thing about panic attacks is that it's about anxiety. It's about the fight or flight instinct we have, which used to aid our survival but now tends to just interfere with our school tests."

"Soo. It was normal for it to happen to Mal, then?"

Ben makes a noise, "I don't know. I mean, the handcuffs seem to be what triggered it, but if that's the reason why, then why didn't it stop once I removed the perceived danger?"

Evie slowly shakes her head, "I don't—" but then she stills.

He sees her expression, "Evie?"

"It could be nothing," she explains away.

"Or it could be something," Ben stresses the importance.

Evie nods, "Right. Well… there was this guy, Harry Hook, on the Isle. He always carried around this fake, metal hook, and he did use it very interactively, surprisingly."

"Did Mal know him?" he questions.

Evie begins to speak, but it takes a minute for her to get the words out, "He was Mal's heat source before I was."

Ben's mouth gapes in realization, "He's the guy she said she planned to kill."

Her eyes widen, "What?" but Ben doesn't respond. "I knew that she said she wanted him dead, but I never thought she planned to kill him."

"Did she tell you anything else about him?" he anxiously questions.

"No. She never talks about him." Evie watches him place a hand to his forehead. "Ben. What do you think he did to her?"

He lies his arm back down onto the table, "I have no idea, but whatever it was had to have been terrible."

"He's the reason why she has trust issues," Evie contemplates.

"What?"

She looks at him again, "There were times on the Isle when I told Mal she couldn't rely on me, but she kept insisting that she wasn't going to trust a stranger to help her anymore." She takes the cap off her drink, "I just know she was talking about Hook." before she takes a sip.

"But he was her heat source for a long time, wasn't he?" Ben questions.

"According to Jay, Mal didn't want to take Hook's offer. It was only after the arrangement had gone on for a while that she started to trust him." She uneasily laughs. "And Mal told me that," Evie rolls her eyes, "— whatever happened— he broke that trust."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "His offer, what was it?"

"Ben." She eyes the table, "You have to understand that on the Isle we resort to things we don't want to do… or things we have to learn to enjoy as part of our survival." He doesn't respond, so she looks up to gauge his expression. It's one of concern and interest. "Mal had to pay people to give her heat. Hook's offer… it was for her to have his heat for free, and once she ran out of money she had to take it." Ben stays silent. "She had no choice."

He stares down at his textbook as he sadly comments, "My mother would say there's always a choice." before he shakes his head. "I can't believe this. All this time I thought he was like an ex of hers or something, but now you're telling me that she didn't even want to be with him at all?" She watches as his hand tightens into a fist. "You know they had sex, right?" Evie's mouth opens slightly. "I mean, she didn't say that, but she said it went farther than usual, and what else could that mean if it means that she went farther with him than with me?" He gestures, "Or you?" before he places the fist to his forehead.

"It could have just been oral," Evie softy comments.

"That's still sex," Ben stresses. "Some would say it's even more personal." He shakes his head, "Even if it was just a hand job… If she didn't even want to be with him, then why would she do it?"

"Maybe it was just part of the arrangement," Evie suggests. "Or, maybe she was more desperate for heat than usual. The Isle can get really cold."

Ben lets out a long breath, "I don't know." and Evie watches as his hand slowly unclenches. "I… I don't know."

She watches as he stretches his hand over his forehead, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "I'm fine."

"You sure?" she questions.

It takes Ben a minute to say, "I have a bottle of ibuprofen in my drawer. Can you get it?"

"Yeah. Okay," Evie answers. "Which one?" Ben points to his bedside table, and then she walks over to take the small bottle from the drawer.

When she gets back to the table and hands it to him he mutters, "Thanks." before shaking out three of the blue pills and downing them with the water.

She glances from to the pills to him, "What are they for?"

He eyes her paranoidly for a moment, "It reduces fevers."

"But you're not sick," Evie partly smiles.

"No," Ben counters, "I am. Have been for a long time, actually." She gives him a confused look. "Call it a high body temperature. Even with medicine, I'm usually around a hundred or more degrees."

"Well," Evie slowly responds, "that explains why Mal keeps going on about how hot you are." Ben doesn't react. "Does she know about this?"

"Just put it on the list of things she deserves to know," Ben answers, "right next to my sleep issues and misuse of pharmaceuticals."

"So, she doesn't know?" Evie clarifies.

"No," Ben looks down. "Up until a month ago only my parents and coach really knew."

"Who else knows?" she questions.

He takes a large breath, "Let me see. First, I passed out after Communications in front of the teacher and Aziz. Aziz knows about the pills. So does the nurse… Then Doug found out, and, uh, now I guess I'm telling you." He shifts his eyes, "For some idiotic reason."

"You passed out?"

Ben nods, "I forget to take my medicine."

Evie eyes the bottle, "Did you forget to take it today?"

"No," Ben lets out a breath. "I'm just not allowed to express any emotion, or else I forfeit all rights to my mind and body."

She watches him crack a smile, "It's nice to know you can at least joke about it."

He opens his mouth in unsureness, "You can't tell anyone about this."

"Why not?" She looks up for a second, "I mean, not that I would. But why?"

It takes him a moment to answer, "It's life threatening." and then Evie frowns. "My country can't know I'm sick. Not like this. I could be seen as unfit to rule."

"Life threatening?" Evie breathes out in concern.

"It's nothing to worry about," Ben promises. "So long as I take my medicine, I'll be safe. The real issue is when I actually get sick, in which case my doctor is on call. Oh, right!" he remembers. "My doctor knows about it too, obviously."

"Obviously," Evie smiles.

Ben smiles as well, "Yeah, so. Nothing to worry about." before he finishes off the last inch of his drink, crushes the bottle, and tosses it in with the plastics.

Evie takes a sip of her own water, "You know, this is actually pretty good. Do they come in more flavors?"

"Uh, yeah," Ben answers. "There's strawberry kiwi, berry, grape, and lemon, but my favorite is the cherry."

Evie looks at the label. "Black cherry," she corrects.

He laughs, "Yes. Black cherry."

"The guys drink sports' drinks," Evie recalls. "Gatorade, I think?"

"Oh," he unenthusiastically responds.

"Oh?" Evie questions.

"They might as well be drinking liquid sugar," he frowns in annoyance. "We can't blame them. It is what's served during games, but—" He taps his thumb on the table, "They dye it different colors for no other purpose than for marketing. They actually think it will make more people buy it." He shrugs, "Which, I guess they would, because so many things look completely inedible nowadays. Like those pop tarts. Have you ever seen jolly rancher pop tarts?" Evie shakes her head. "Most inedible thing you will ever see: a slate of lime green with these purple zigzags swirling across it. It's supposed to be a pastry."

"You mean like bread?" Evie raises her eyebrows. "They have green bread?"

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Yeah. Pretty much. You know, it's supposed to taste like candy, but I don't even care. The sight of it alone— I haven't even been able to touch it."

"I don't blame you," Evie comments. "It sounds disgusting."

"Just how people can tolerate the sight of those things." He shakes his head, "I don't even know, but anyway. So, yeah. Gatorade thinks adding color will make it sell more, but I can honestly say that if given the option I won't be drinking it."

"Because it's not safe?" Evie speculates.

"It has a ton of sugar, just as many calories as a regular soda, and it can have just about as many carbs as a serving of chunky soup." He gestures, "You tell me." He watches as she laughs. "What? What is it?"

Evie grins, "You're showing emotion."

"Oh. Right." He furrows his eyebrows, "I should stop that."

"It must suck, having to do that."

He shrugs, "I don't have much of a choice."

"Didn't you just say your mother says you always have a choice?" Evie counters.

Ben's quiet for a second, "She says that when I misbehave. She doesn't actually mean it. Or, if she does… I don't know."

"King of the land of good misbehave," Evie doubts. "What did you do? Leave clothes on the floor? Hanging out with friends before doing homework?"

"More like defend myself," Ben answers. "Or when I try to express myself and get sick, or when I'm not patient with Father…"

"Ben," Evie frowns.

"I hate being this way," he sadly complains. "Why can't I just be normal and not be sick, not be weird." He slightly shakes his head as he mumbles, "I'm a freak."

"You're not a freak," Evie denies.

"No." Ben looks up at her, "I'm special." before he nearly rolls his eyes. "Whatever that means." She doesn't speak. "You know, I never felt like I belonged anywhere until I met Mal. I always just… I felt so alone."

"You're popular. Famous. You're a king," Evie lists. "How could you feel alone?"

Ben shakes his head, "I don't know. I just always have." and then there's a brief silence, as he contemplates. "I've always been content with life, you know? But it was only when I met Mal that I found true happiness."

"You're sure it wasn't just the cookie?" Evie questions.

Ben half laughs, "No. Uh, it was before then." and then he slightly nods. "It really was when I met her. There was just something about her… I felt connected and happy." He smiles, "It was like, suddenly, I wasn't so alone."

Evie shakes her head, "How could that be?"

He lifts a shoulder, "I don't know. It—" and then he lifts his thumb. "Just happened." He lets out a sad breath, "I don't want to feel that way again. I don't want to be alone."

When he stops speaking Evie reassures, "Don't worry. Everything's going to be okay."

Ben attempts a smile, "She cares about you, you know." but she isn't given enough time to speak her doubts. "When we had dinner on Valentine's Day she told me a little about how things were on the Isle of the Lost. She said there were times when she couldn't find you." Evie looks down. "She cried when she told me about it."

"Mal doesn't cry," Evie breathes out. "I mean, she has more recently, but in general—" She shakes her head, "No. She doesn't do that."

"Which just shows how much she does care," Ben easily replies. "She's still going to want you after all of this is over. You're still going to be her best friend, even if you aren't her main heat source anymore." Evie slightly nods but continues to frown. "Everything is going to be okay for you too. You have to believe that."

"Yeah." Evie looks up at him, "Okay." before she nods. "She'll be fine."

"She'll be just fine," he confirms. "She's going to get out of jail, win the trial, and then we will be able to see her as much as we want."

Evie glances down, "Sounds hopeful."

"It is," Ben admits, "but it's what we have to believe, right, in order to make it through this?"

She nods, "I guess so."

"So," Ben tenses a smile, "she will get a nonguilty verdict, and then everything will be okay. For both of us. We won't be losing her."

* * *

\- Do you ever find things to be perfect? Like, how when I wrote this chapter the last piece of dialogue was on the last line of the page?.. Except, then I remembered all of the things I wanted to do with this chapter. It really ruined that "perfection". After thinking about it, I figured one of the things I wanted to cover could just happen behind the scenes and be brought up later; however, then there was this really nice thing I had planned that I didn't get to do. When I wrote Evie's line on how she questioned who would tell her everything was going to be okay if Mal no longer wanted her, I thought it would be really sweet to have Ben say that line to her towards the end of the chapter. But then this whole thing with Hook came up and I thought it would be more impactful to end it like this... I could make the chapter longer if enough of you wanted me to, but I'm not sure. It's like it ended in a satisfying way but that the content seems a little empty to me, just because I had so many ideas for this chapter. Not too many more, but enough.

\- **Update (07/11/2018)** : Okay. To be fair, when I said I could make it longer I didn't realize there were already five pages... So, now there's nine! I hope you enjoyed. If not... then you can just pretend their conversation ended with Ben saying he had no idea of what Hook could have done to Mal, as originally written. If you do happen to like the second part, then feel free to tell me. I'm a little paranoid that the extra length of scene may have ruined the dynamic between Evie and Ben that at least one of you liked... Anyway, they talked for an hour, and on top of the spelling errors I had to fix I just kept wondering how that conversation could have possibly continued. With how it was before, Evie could have just made an excuse to leave for all we know... Wow. I am paranoid. Obviously, she wouldn't have done that. Maybe... Next Chapter! (PS: I am going to be so irritated if I read this chapter later on and find that there are still spelling errors, but considering that I added so much to it I wouldn't be surprised).


	77. The Only Thing You will ever Have

\- **Update (07/11/2018)** : When I reread the last chapter **"Safe"** I found a few typos and saw it as a sign that I should also add onto it, so if you feel like it you now have four more pages to read for that chapter. Some of it is kind of repetitive, so you might not miss much, but there's this whole spiel Ben does on what Mal means to him, so you might want to read it just for that. If you read that before you read this, then you might be able to figure out why Mal is pretty much the only person who makes him feel... better (a generic term, because I don't want to spoil anything).

* * *

 **The Only Thing You will ever Have**

 **(Day 46: Wednesday Evening)**

"You have a visitor," the guard comments. Mal smiles hopefully, standing from the bolted bed, but as she walks towards the bars her smile falters.

"Belle. What are you doing here? I mean, I'm glad you're here, but—"

"You were expecting Ben," she finishes as she moves in front of her.

"Where is he?" Mal questions.

Belle eyes the concrete floor for a second, "We'll get to that." before she looks back up at her. "First things first, how are you?"

"Well," Mal tries to smile, "the water isn't has hot as I'd like, the food is primarily grain, and the bed is lumpy and hard. But aside from that…" Belle can only frown. "Ah, I have my own shower, so that's great."

"They don't trust you around the others, do they?" she inquires. "That's why I had to visit you in your cell."

Mal lifts a hand up, "Well, what else would you expect? I used 'magic' in the court room. Of course they're going to keep me in here."

It's quiet for a minute, as Belle starts to bring up the next thing, "Ben said you might be cold? How are you doing with that?"

"Um." She shifts in her stance, "It could be worse."

"He also told me you might lie and say you're okay," Belle comments sternly. "Are you really alright?"

"I've been through worse."

She shakes her head, "I don't like that answer."

"What would you rather do?"

"What can I do?" Belle asks.

Mal suspiciously observes her, "Are you offering me heat?"

It takes a moment of her to say, "I suppose I am." and then Mal nods in thought. "How would that work, exactly?"

"Well," Mal starts. "The way Jay and I have always done it is just by holding each other's wrists." The guard watches carefully, as she moves her hands outside of the bars and turns her wrists up. "If you're serious."

"I would hate for Ben to get upset with me," Belle comments as she places her wrists into Mal's open hands and holds Mal's wrists with her own hands. "You mean a lot to him." She looks down, feeling the slight cold, "This gives you heat?"

"Not as much as some other things," Mal explains, "but the kind of relationship I have with someone determines what's appropriate."

"I wish you had thought that way when you went after Audrey."

Mal looks towards the ceiling for a second, "Well, clearly, I wasn't thinking."

Belle nods before moving on to the next question, "What about what you told the judge about your grandfather being a full dragon? Is that really what your mother told you?"

"It was more than her telling me," Mal undoubtedly answers. "She described him to me. She told stories… You can't just make that kind of thing up."

"What kind of stories?" Belle inquires.

"It's a tragedy," Mal slowly responds. "You probably don't want to hear it." She looks down for a second, "What I can tell you is that her mother met her father in a clearing near her cottage. She used a spell to hide him, until he got better." She shakes her head, "She found a way to communicate with him during that time so that she could tell what he needed, and eventually… she gave him a human form. It was always temporary, apparently, but even when he looked human he was still clearly a dragon. He had purple hair, the same color his scales were, and he had tiny horns instead of eyebrows. He had claws." She glances down at her own long nails and takes a moment to relax her hands so that they won't scrape against Belle's skin. "He went hunting a lot, even during the winter." Mal feels the tears intrude her eyes, "That was the only time I remember hearing my mom actually laugh, was when she was describing how he came home with snow on his shoulders and a rabbit in his hands. But then… she would be expressionless and distant. It's like she had to remember he died."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Belle sympathizes.

Mal looks down for a second, "He died when my mother was six. When my mother was sixteen her mother also died." She's quiet for a moment. "She spent so many years alone, just trying to survive. I can't even imagine what she must have had to go through."

When Mal silences Belle sincerely replies, "I'm sorry I ever doubted you."

Mal can only slightly nod, before she takes in a couple settling breaths and changes the subject, "You still haven't told me why Ben couldn't come."

"Right," Belle remembers. "You see—" Her expression is grim, "There's been a problem with Ben's papers."

Mal gives her a look, "What do you mean?"

"Well." She takes a moment to think, "The police have access to certain parts of someone's medical papers, so they can know what inmates need, for instance." It takes her a minute to continue, "Because you're a hybrid, they're monitoring who's visiting you."

"They think I might hurt Ben?" Mal questions.

"No," Belle painfully smiles, and Mal can feel the grip tighten around her wrists. "You know all about the curse with Adam, right?"

"Yeah," she slowly answers.

"Well," Belle explains, "having been transformed into an animal is considered a pre-existing condition. Sometimes the spells aren't performed correctly or there are side effects."

Mal frowns, "What's this got to do with Ben?"

Belle eyes the floor for a second, "Because it can change someone's DNA, anyone who has that pre-existing condition… their children are considered hybrids."

"Wait. So, that means," Mal breathes with stress.

"That the hospital had to legally document Ben as a hybrid once he was born, yes," Belle seriously confirms. "That's why he isn't allowed to see you. They think he has motive to break you out, and because his hospital papers say he's a hybrid, they think he might actually be able to do so."

Mal shakes her head, "No. Ben never told me—"

"We never told him," Belle informs. "We should have," she admits. "We should have told him. It was wrong for him to find out the way he did." She glances down, "He was so confused when the guy at the desk told him he had no right to see you, and when he called me—" Mal sees her tear up. "I had to tell him over the phone. It should have been in person, sitting down as a family, explaining to him slowly and calmly. Instead—" Belle blinks, "He was so upset and angry. No. Frustrated. He was just frustrated and understandably so."

"He's king," Mal reminds her. "How doesn't he have a right to see me?"

It takes a moment for her to respond, "He's documented as a hybrid. Now that the authorities know… his word won't mean much." She eyes the floor, "And hybrids don't have a right to visit inmates. Therefore, neither does he."

"That's not fair," Mal nearly yells, and the guard takes a step closer. She watches as he readies the stun gun, and Belle's eyes follow before she quickly turns back to her.

She warns, "As a hybrid, someone accused of a crime, and the child of the most feared villain, you must keep calm. People are going to see you as a threat. They're going to judge you before they even know you. They're going to cut you down when you're already falling to pieces." Her eyes are widened in sternness, but Mal also recognizes the concern Belle always seems to have. "Your emotional control may be the only thing you will ever have. If you want any sympathy from the public, you will present yourself in a graceful and dignified way." Mal takes a couple breaths, and then Belle nods. "The thing is hybrids tend to be powerful, and it's because of that that humans fear you. Ben not being able to visit you may seem unfair, but letting hybrids into a jail or prison is just not a risk the authorities are willing to take."

Mal observes her for a second, "Are you afraid of me?"

She glances down, "I was at first." before she partly smiles back up at her. "But then I got to know you, and I've since come to realize that the only person you're truly a threat to is yourself." Mal doesn't speak. "How are you doing, by the way?"

Mal looks everywhere but at her, "I have too much time to think." however; she meets her eyes in the end.

"Visiting hours are up," the guard announces.

Belle lets go of Mal, "You remind me a lot of myself, you know. Just how intelligent and emotionally strong you seem to be for everything you have to face." She eyes her sincerely, seemingly determined to let Mal know, "You can make it through this. I know you can."

"Ma'am," the guard interrupts again. "It's time to leave." Mal notes how he didn't touch Belle. She was given a second notice. Was it because she was once queen of the country, or are humans just treated more fairly? Up until now, she had almost thought it was normal.

"I'll see you again," Belle lets her know, before she leaves the room by herself. She wasn't guided out. She wasn't threatened. They just allowed her to.

"Hey," a voice calls out. "How do you know the queen?"

Mal thinks about staying quiet, but eventually she answers, "I'm dating the king."

"You sound a little young to be having an affair with King Adam," the man comments, and then Mal gives a look to the wall, wishing she could see through the cement blocks.

"No. You idiot," a woman hollers at him. "The kid's king now. Don't you listen to the news? She's the girlfriend that assaulted the king's ex."

Mal steps towards the bars and grits her teeth as she grasps the metal, "I didn't assault her. I barely even touched her!" but then she sees the guard step towards her, removing her hands from the bars just as his baton hits it.

"Keep your arms inside your cell and shut your trap," he instructs, before he turns towards the rest of the cells and yells, "That goes for all of you." The door light flashes green again, and Mal looks at it. When it opens it reveals a three section, metal cart, and when the guard pulls it in the door shuts and the light turns red again. He eyes her carefully, "Stand back." and once she does as instructed he pushes the grey tray through the slot onto the metal ledge.

After he moves onto the next cell Mal walks up to the tray and grabs the small carton of milk. She looks over the rest of a meal for a brief moment, but it's about what she expected the dinner to be: some kind of noodle and vegetable soup, some canned pears, and a buttered sandwich. She doesn't even bother to see if any meat is hidden within the slices. _Meat is expensive_. She huffs, "Apparently." before she sits down on the bed and opens the white carton. _Also religion. So, there's that_. She sips the milk. _Meat isn't healthy_. Mal half laughs as she downs the rest of the milk. _Says who?_

When she stands and goes over to set the carton back on the tray the guards watches her suspiciously, "What are you planning? Trying to get skinny enough to squeeze through those bars? If you do, you still have me and a keypad door to get through."

"Don't flatter yourself," Mal frowns in response. "If I was planning on breaking out of here, I'd already be out."

"Magic doesn't work on the doors," the guard informs.

"Oh! But you see," Mal counters, "I don't need magic to get out of here. If I really wanted to, then I could just hypnotize you to release me."

"That's still magic," the guard crosses his arms, "and magic doesn't work in here."

"Too bad it's not magic, then. Huh?"

"It is too," he sternly responds, firm in his stance.

Mal smirks, "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" and it's not a moment later that he uncrosses his arms and he appears to be worried."

She laughs, "I really do have the power, don't I? It's just as Belle said. You're afraid of me, because you think you won't be able to out-power me." He doesn't speak, just changing his stance to one of preparation. "Don't worry. I have no plans to break free. I don't need to, because I'm innocent. And I believe that even in this unjust society, a hybrid can prevail."

"You think so?" he questions.

"Well," Mal sits back down on the bed. "You see, the real problem is that where I'm from hybrids are mostly just seen as people. We're equal—perhaps even worshiped. Here, on the other hand…" She trails off before glowing her eyes at him, "I'll just have to earn my respect."

* * *

\- Now... I'm not going to say Ben is actually a hybrid, because his mother keeps using the phrase "documented as a hybrid"; however, over the years I have watched people find people who are similar to themselves without even realizing it. If Ben really were a hybrid, it might just explain why he felt so alone up until he met Mal. Why wouldn't he get that same feeling from his father, you ask, if he just needed to connect to someone like him? Well, I think I have a reasonable answer, but I'd much rather hear your guesses. It's much more fun that way.


	78. Unfortunate Genes

**Unfortunate Genes**

 **(Day 46: Wednesday Evening)**

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?" Ben frustratedly questions as they talk in the alcove sitting area, the heavy rain heard from outside as the fireplace crackles. "Perhaps you're really an enchantress, as they said. Was the curse really just some story to cover your affections for an animal this entire time?"

"Ben," his father angers.

"Adam." Belle reaches for his arm, "It's okay." before she turns back to her son. "I realize it must feel as though we have broken the trust you had in us, but you have to know that we've never lied to you before. Not really."

It takes a minute for Ben to remember, "You heard Mal at our first dinner. She wanted me to tell you the full truth, because she knew that the omission of truth was just as much of a lie. She took classes on all of that. I'm pretty sure she knew what she was talking about."

"And we're glad that she wanted you to be so honest with us," she sincerely responds, "but there is a time and a place to reveal such harsh matters."

"A time," Ben nearly laughs through his frown. "I'm sixteen. I'm king. When were you planning to tell me, when I was forty-five and my own child came to rule?"

His mother's eyes glisten with tears, "We should have told you sooner. We know that."

"Told me sooner?" Ben continues to furrow his eyebrows at her. "You didn't tell me at all. I had to pry it out of you. You don't know what I'm talking about, huh?" He shakes his head, "You did lie to me. You say you never did, but you have."

"We wanted you to have a normal life," his mother desperately explains. "Or, at least relatively normal for a royal."

"Am I even royal?" Ben skeptically asks. "Was dad ever really a prince?"

"You tell me," his mother calmly comments. "You know what we've told you. He was a twelve year-old orphan, who the staff spoiled because he was never happy. When that elderly woman offered him a rose in the middle of winter in exchange for permission to enter the castle, he refused to let her in. Do you think we could have made that up?"

"You're smart enough." Ben relaxes, "But, no. I believe you."

"And for the record," his mother lets him know, "I'm no witch or enchantress either."

Ben glances down at the white stone table, "My fever." before looking back up at her. "Am I sick, because I'm a hybrid?"

"You're not a hybrid," his mother denies. "Your papers may legally say you are, but you aren't. You've just been passed down some unfortunate genes. Your father runs a little warm too. It's just not as bad with him as it is with you."

"You know what the doctor said," his father comments. "It's because of your age that you're suffering so much. Once you get a little older, it shouldn't be as much of an issue."

Ben turns from his father to his mother, "What about my strength and so-called natural athleticism. Are those just unfortunate genes too?" She doesn't speak. "And what about Coach Jenkins? Has he known this entire time?"

It takes a moment for her to say, "Yes. He has."

"You had him lie to me?" Ben yells.

"We didn't want you to feel defined by what a piece of paper says," his mother persists.

Ben rests his elbow on his leg, as his fist shakes against his mouth, "So, basically, the three people I trusted most in my life were never to be trusted at all."

"No," she lets out. "You can trust us."

"How?" Ben yells even louder. "Just explain to me, how?" When she doesn't respond he stands up, "All of those doctor appointments, the times I was hospitalized, the times you criticized me for showing my strength, and you never explained any of it to me." but then his father stands up tall in front of her. Ben shakes his head, "I'm out of here."

When he heads towards the doors she stands up and calls, "Ben." but he doesn't listen. She has to watch him leave into the pouring rain, the large doors slamming behind him, before she turns to her husband. "What was that?"

"He was angry," Adam tries to explain. "I was protecting you."

She slightly shakes his head, "No. He wasn't angry. He was just upset. And even if he was, what ever makes you think he would hurt me?"

"He's young. He doesn't know how to control himself."

Belle widens her eyes at her husband, "And you think you do?" before he falls silent. "Ben was upset. He thought we betrayed him. We should have comforted him, made him know that we're still here for him. And you did what? Put a wall up between him and me? What could you have been possibly thinking?"

"He was getting mad," Adam tries to explain again.

"He wasn't mad," Belle frustrates. "He was hurt. He was sad. You should know better than anyone that men can display hostility when they're depressed." He stays quiet. "Ben's whole world has been crumbling around him, between his girlfriend being in jail and now with finding out about all of this…" She shakes her head, "You shouldn't have done that. He needed us. He needed openness. And you pushed him away."

"I'm sorry," Adam apologizes.

Belle lets out a stressed breath as she eyes him sternly, "You can apologize to me all you want, but when it comes to the wellbeing of our son I can't accept it. I'm sorry, but you need to know that your words mean nothing when it comes to him. You can't take back what you did."

It takes a minute for him to comment, "I know… but I really am sorry." She just stares at him. "What can I do to make it better?"

She observes him for another moment, "I don't know if you can."

* * *

"Ben?" The coach walks up to the treadmill and takes one of the kid's earbuds out, "Hey." Ben looks over in fear and missteps, but then he catches himself and lets out a breath of relief as he continues to run. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at dinner?"

"Not hungry," he simply says as he continues to look out the window. Coach Jenkins presses the pause button. "Hey!"

When Ben turns to him he asks, "What's going on?" Ben looks back at the treadmill, the timer counting down how long he has to continue the workout or else automatically stop. He goes to press the button to continue, but Jenkins places his hand over it to prevent him from doing so. "Over twelve miles." Ben turns to him in annoyance. "You'd better stop before you hit an unlucky number." He glances down, as he presses the button on his watch three times. "Ben. Tell me. What's going on here?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ben irritably questions.

"Tell you what?"

"About what I am," he furrows his eyebrows at him. "You knew. You knew, and you didn't tell me."

Coach Jenkins lets out a breath, "So, you know."

"No thanks to you."

It takes a moment for Jenkins to justify, "It was safer for you not to know."

"You and your safety," Ben glares at him. "How does being kept in the dark about myself keep me safe?" He sees the coach open his mouth to speak, but he doesn't let him. "I willing let the police check my papers when I went to visit Mal. So, now there's a handful of other people who know about me now. If your concern was keeping me safe by keeping it secret from others, then you should have told me. This whole 'you don't need an explanation, just do as I say' thing you and my parents did, it put me at even more risk. If any of those people want fame, I'm one post or interview away from being outed." He shakes his head, "This wasn't about safety. If you wanted me to stay safe, then you would have told me."

"I also wanted you to feel like you belonged on the team," Jenkins calmly comments. "I didn't want you to feel like you were cheating or somehow didn't deserve to win." Ben frowns and eyes down for a second. "No matter what you are, you're still just a kid. You deserve to be part of a team without question, to have all the same opportunities and experiences everyone your age gets to have without a second thought." Ben doesn't speak. "You deserved a normal high school experience. You deserved to be able to feel normal."

"I'm sick," Ben reminds him. He puts up finger quotations, "I'm 'special'." He shakes his head, "I never felt normal, not when I was constantly being told not to say or do things." He looks away, "Not when everyone was acting like I wasn't." and then he sees the dark sky out the window. "It snowed during the winter formal. Heavy snow. It was a big deal." He lets out a long breath as he feels his eyes water, "Chad had taken so many photos that my phone blew up every second. They were happy, all smiling. The girls wore the guy's jacket, and people were kissing as though the snow would grant their relationship to last forever." He glances down before turning back to the coach, "I spent that night in the hospital. The whole week, in fact. It was the first snow we had this year, and I had to watch it through the window." He tenses a partial smile, "I couldn't feel the cold of it. I couldn't smell the crisp air. All I could do was watch, and by the time I finally got out of there… all the snow had disappeared." The coach doesn't speak. "I couldn't have that high school experience. I lost it because of my sickness, because of what I am. Don't you think I at least deserved the curtesy to know why?"

"It must have been really hard for you," Jenkins sympathizes, "but knowing why you were so sick wouldn't have changed anything. You still wouldn't have touched the snow."

Ben huffs, "When I told my friends I was sick with the flu a good amount of them said I should just sneak out of the castle for a couple hours. They said it would be good for me." There's silence for a moment, as Ben gulps and tries to keep the tears at bay. "They didn't even know where I was. Some offered to spend some time with me or to facetime me and stop by to take a photo to remember the night, but I wasn't even allowed to let them know I'd been hospitalized. I had to reject their offers. I was forced to lie to them."

"Ben," Jenkins slowly reasons, "if they had shown up at the hospital, they would have known there was more to it than just the flu. They would have asked questions."

 _It's not like I had any answers_. Ben takes a deep breath, "I'm too tired to argue."

"Good," Jenkins comments, "because I'm not looking to." With a quick look over Ben he nods, "Why don't you go get something to eat and then get some decent rest. It will do you some good and help to process everything."

"I'm really not—"

"You burned off over a thousand calories," the coach sternly interrupts. "You're getting yourself something to eat. That's an order."

Ben tiredly responds, "Alright."

"Good," Jenkins comments, before he smiles and nods towards the door. "Now, get out of here. I need to lock up."

* * *

\- So, just to be clear, when Belle was referring to Adam's hostile depression she's referring more to back when he was the beast rather than the actual current situation... Also, just so you know my thoughts on the subject. I do believe that girls could also have possible irritability or hostility when they're depressed. It's just that because it's less socially acceptable for guys to express their feelings that they're more likely to present it this way, and according to an article guys are more likely to report depressive symptoms as stress or anxiety. Above all, I remember reading a while ago that in general guys are less likely to be diagnosed with depression, because it's not always expressed in the "usual" way. It sucks, but apparently it's a thing. (Side note: I also read that although women are more likely to attempt suicide, that if a guy attempts suicide they're about four times more likely to succeed). But don't take my word for it. If you're curious on the subject, then do some research yourself. I'm sure there's going to be articles out the that either have different statistics or have more information to explain it better.


	79. Not Normal

**Not Normal**

 **(Day 46-47: Wednesday Night- Thursday Morning)**

After Ben is finished with his shower and putting on his pajama pants he gets out of the bathroom and finds Doug sitting at the table, "Hey."

"Hey." Ben goes over and sits down himself, before he picks up the remote and turns the channel. "What are you doing?"

Ben slowly comments, "I am finding a movie." as he examines each selection.

"I thought you were supposed to be sleeping tonight."

Ben glances down at his watch, "It's only ten. Besides, I'm still waiting for dinner."

Doug gives him a look, "You didn't have dinner? Where on Earth were you, then?"

He hums, "Let me think. Ah, right." He looks at him, "The workout room." before straining a smile and turning back to the TV.

"Is that where you always are when you're not at dinner?" Doug inquires.

Ben takes a stressed breath, "No. Sometimes I'm at my parents."

"Not three times a week," Doug points out. "Just Sundays."

"And the occasional unscheduled night," Ben informs, but after a moment of looking at him he turns away again. "I may also happen to go out to eat sometimes."

It takes a minute to Doug to ask, "Where?"

Ben glares at him, "None of your business. Why does it matter?"

"Why is it important that I can't know where it is?" he questions back.

"Because," Ben stresses, "I don't need a bunch of people showing up, interrupting me when I'm trying to eat." There's a long silence as Ben glares at him, but then there's a knock at the door and he lets out a breath. "That's the pizza." Ben goes over to take the cash off of his bedside table, before he walks over to the door and opens it.

Doug watches as Ben takes the large box, shuts the door, and turns back around. "What is that?" Ben gestures to it. "I mean, what kind is it?"

Ben smiles when he sits back down at the table, opening the box for Doug to see, "Mozzarella stuffed crust with extra pepperoni, extra sausage, and extra bacon bits."

"That has to be four thousand calories," Doug exclaims.

Ben shrugs as he lifts his thumbs up, "A little more than that, actually, but—"

"You're not planning on eating all of that tonight, are you?"

Ben eyes it for a moment, "I might save a couple pieces for tomorrow."

Doug gives him a look, "A couple pieces."

He awkwardly smiles, "Ah, yeah."

"Ben," Doug lets out a stressed breath. "I know you've eaten this many calories in a day before, but in one sitting?" Ben frowns. "This can't be good for you."

Ben glances down, "It's not like I've never done it before."

"What?" he whispers.

Ben feels something settle in him. It's not guilt. _It's—_ He doesn't know what it is, "It's my favorite kind of pizza… I get it sometimes." He sees Doug's concern. "Look. You don't need to worry. I ran twelve miles. It's fine."

"No. It's not fine," Doug furrows his eyebrows at him. "Ben," he breathes. "This isn't normal."

"Well, I'm not exactly normal, am I?" Ben counters.

"What?" Doug inquires.

He shakes his head, "Nothing."

"Ben. How often do you do this?"

"Do what?" he raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"The extreme exercise. The binging," he gestures to the pizza.

Ben wets his lips, "What's up with the sudden interrogation? You've never questioned it before."

It takes a moment for him to comment, "I had a talk with Evie—"

"Evie," Ben nearly yells. "She's an anorexic. You're really going to listen to her?"

"I defended you," Doug says a little louder, and when Ben silences he calmly continues. "Maybe it's because she has an eating disorder that I should listen to her." Ben shakes his head in annoyance. "You can't keep doing this. The amount of stress you must be putting on your body… It's not good for you."

Ben lifts up a hand, "Look, Doug. I appreciate the concern. I really do, but I'm fine. Trust me." He widens his eyes at him, "I'm fine."

"How can you know that?"

"Because," Ben lets out, before he whispers, "It's always been this way."

Doug looks at him for a minute, seemingly in disbelief, "What?"

Ben shrugs, "I've always had a lot of exercise and eating in my life, for as long as I can remember. What I'm doing, it's normal for me. I'm fine."

Doug slightly shakes his head, "No, Ben." but he doesn't respond. "You really don't remember when this all started?"

Ben places a hand to his head, "The pizza is going to get cold."

"I don't care," Doug sternly replies. "It's not normal for a human to eat this much."

"Well, I'm not human!" Ben stares at Doug for a moment, before he shuts his eyes and scratches in between his hair. "Apparently, I'm a hybrid. That's part of the reason why I got fifteen stupid miles done today, is because my parents neglected to tell me and I had to find out by being told I have no rights to see my girlfriend in jail." He opens his eyes to find Doug sitting in shock, and then he shakes his head. "Maybe that's how I'm able to exercise so much. Maybe that's why my eating is all… whatever." He looks at him, "Or maybe you're right. Maybe it's not normal, even for someone like me. But what I can say is that it's always been a thing, and I'm fine." He looks down for a moment, "I've been fine." before gauging his expression. "There's nothing for you to worry about."

"You're a hybrid?" Ben doesn't speak, and then Doug nods. "Well, it certainly explains a lot." He eyes the poster, "Like how you were able to punch through a thick wall."

"Oh, right," Ben remembers. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten someone for that yet." He looks down, "It's been busy."

"Yeah," Doug agrees. "Your girlfriend is in jail. And you're not allowed to see her?" Ben looks back up. "How are you?"

"More worried about her, actually," Ben softly comments. "The trial won't be until the twenty-third, so she's going to be held there for a couple weeks… without me."

"You're not saying that you'd like to be held there with her."

Ben half laughs, "No. Of course, not. I wouldn't survive." before he shakes his head. "I just worry that she might not either."

"Why wouldn't she?" Doug questions.

"She can't even generate her own body heat," Ben frowns. "I don't know how much heat she needs, but somehow I doubt a simple handshake or hug will do justice if she usually has to resort to kissing or making out with people."

"And since you're not allowed to see her," Doug starts.

Ben lets out a breath, "It means I can't be there for her when she needs me."

It takes a minute for Doug to ask, "What are you going to do?"

He shrugs, "I don't know. I mean, I think I have an idea, but… I'd rather not. It's something to sleep on, I guess." Doug nods, and then Ben eyes the pizza. "Can I eat now?"

Doug smiles, "So long as I can have a piece too."

Ben almost rolls his eyes, "Sure." before he presses play and they watch the movie.

* * *

The next morning Ben knocks on the door, and when Evie answers he asks, "Can we talk for a moment?"

She offers a look of suspicion, "Sure." before she lets him in. "What is it?"

He turns towards her, and it takes a minute for him to get it out, "I'm not allowed to see Mal. They're monitoring who's visiting her."

Evie takes a step forward, "But you're king. You're her boyfriend."

"It doesn't matter," Ben continues to frown. "Because of my, uh, condition, I'm not allowed to see her."

Evie's quiet for a second, "She needed you." but Ben doesn't respond. "What do we do now? She won't last more than just a few days, maybe a week if we're lucky."

"You should be allowed to see her," Ben comments.

She gives him a questioning look, "Are you saying—"

"You're her best friend," Ben interrupts. "I would hope that if she really needed help and I wasn't around for her, then you'd be able to step in."

"And you're okay with that?" she skeptically questions.

Ben laughs through a breath, "No." and they share a look for a moment. "But what other choice do we have?" Evie stays quiet. "Please. I need to know she'll be taken care of."

Evie glances down, "I'm not as warm as you. I won't be able to help as much."

"But it would be more than if she were to have no one at all," Ben counters. "You need to be able to do this for us. For Mal."

Evie looks back up, "Okay."

Ben nods, "Okay, then." and it's quiet for a minute. "I'll give you directions. All you do is go inside, wait in line to see the desk guy, and then you will be brought to see her." She nods. "Oh! And bring your ID. They're going to want to look up your medical papers."

Evie slowly responds, "I don't have any medical papers."

"Which means there shouldn't be an issue." He looks down, "Hopefully." before glancing up at her. "You are human, right?"

She takes a second to respond, "I'm a witch, actually."

"A witch?" Evie doesn't speak. "Yeah. Okay. That counts." He warns her, "Just don't tell them that. Not everyone knows that witches are considered to be human." She nods. "Alright, then. That should be about it."

She watches his thumbs anxiously circle around the inside of his palms, "Are you really okay with this? You know, for the situation."

"Yeah," Ben quickly answers. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay, then," Evie evenly observes him. "You send me the directions, and I will go see her tomorrow."

Ben nods, "Yeah. I'll do that."

It's quiet for a minute, before Evie comments, "I need to finish getting ready."

He notices her red nightgown, "Right." before he moves towards the door. "I'll just leave, then."

Evie opens the door and smiles with raised eyebrows, "Bye, Ben."

He steps outside, "Have a nice—" but the door shuts on him before he's given the chance to finish his sentence. "Yeah," he comments to the door. "I will too."

* * *

\- For anyone who may be confused as to why Ben has said that he both ran twelve miles and got fifteen miles done, the deal is that his watch picked up on the extra three miles of walking he did.


	80. Accident

\- I'd just like to take a moment to clarify a few things:

 **1** ) Back at the hearing, the judge may have wanted to hold Mal in contempt at first, but when Ben started listing the reasons why it wouldn't be contempt the judge then remembered the Human's Right of Safety Act and used that as just another reason to hold her (because, yes, he is prejudiced and was looking for an excuse to hold her). However, Mal isn't technically being held in contempt. She wouldn't have had the right to bail anyway, since hybrids who are accused of felonies aren't allowed that right.

 **2** ) It seems like a few of you are starting to get a little bored of this, kind of like how I was bored of the first season of Luke Cage until at the end when the villain was given a backstory and everything started to fall into place. But then again, a lot of you seem to be enjoying this, so maybe it's less boredom and more of an excitement to see how things turn out? I don't know, but whatever it is I need to let you know that I'm not rushing this story. As far as a timeline goes, Mal still has a week of jail time and even after that drama is done there's still the trail (which is not going to be a one-and-done thing either). In real life (unless you're having a civil union/marriage) court and legal things in general tend to be long, boring, and... I'm sure I'm missing a word here, but my point is I'm not going to be rushing anything. Which brings me to my next point—

 **3** ) I'm really not just trying to be repetitive here. The last couple chapters weren't meant to be interpreted as "Hey. More discrimination. Great." or "Yep. I know there's a trial. Let's get to it." Sure. The trial is going to be talked about in passing, because it is something that's going on and therefore something people would bring up. And, yes, there's going to be discrimination, because that is one of the few topics I'm currently covering right now. However, those things were not intended to be the main focus of the chapters after the hearing. The last couple chapters were more about developing character relationships and seeding in some ideas of a few sub/plots that will be becoming a focus sometime later on. I know what it's like to find some plots annoying when you only really have interest in one or two, but it probably will be another five chapters until the trail and then at least a chapter per each day that the trial is happening. Until then, I suggest that you stop and smell the roses, because you're probably going to see a lot of Ben up until then. (Get it? Because roses are very significant to his family? No? Ugh... Never mind, then.)

* * *

 **Accident**

 **(Day 47: Thursday Evening)**

"Hey." Jay quietly stands in the space of the opened door. "I heard you saw Mal today. How is she?"

Jay looks over his shoulder for a second before commenting, "Come in." before he steps to the side and Ben walks past him. "Mal is doing fine. But the lawyer told her to stop threatening the guard, because they could try to… what was that word? Sedate her?"

Ben kneels down to pet the dog, but he looks up at Jay, "Why was she threatening the guard?"

"She wasn't," Jay answers. "She was just standing her ground, letting him know that she wasn't afraid of him."

"If the guard is human, then he's probably more scared of her than she is of him."

"I wouldn't count on that," Jay comments as he walks forward and sits down at the table. "Her mother knew how to tell a scary story, and somehow I imagine that they were all true."

Ben is silent for a moment, before he stands up, "But she's okay, then?"

"Yeah," Jay answers. "She's fine." He nods down to the table, "Now sit."

"What?" Ben questions. "Why?"

"We'd just like to talk for a minute." He looks up, "Isn't that right, Carlos?"

"Totally," he confirms, before he takes three Gatorades from the floor and then sets them on the table.

"Oh," Ben realizes. "You know, I—" He lifts his thumbs up, "I can't stay that long."

"Nonsense," Jay responds, as he slides the blue drink towards Ben. "If you don't finish it here, you can just take it with you." He sees his grim look, "Don't worry. We didn't poison it."

Ben breathes a laugh, "No. Of course, you didn't. It's not that."

"Then what is it?" Carlos prompts as he sits down.

"I'm just not that thirsty," Ben slowly excuses. He watches as Carlos opens his yellow one but looks away before he drinks it, "I had some water already. So—"

"So, just save it for later," Jay solves.

Ben smiles, "You know, that's a great idea."

"Yeah," Jay agrees, "but first you have to claim it."

"Claim it?" Ben frowns.

"Take a drink and then spit it in," Jay instructs.

Ben uneasily comments, "Is that really necessary?"

"If you don't, someone will steal it from you."

"It's true," Carlos lets him know. "It was a huge thing on the Isle."

"Well, this isn't the Isle of the Lost," Ben irritably reminds them. "Who's going to steal it from me?"

"If you don't take a drink from it," Jay evenly comments, "then I could just take it back from you right now." Ben stays silent. "Go on. Drink it," he challenges.

Ben glances at the blue substance, before he looks back up at Jay and then eyes the drink for another moment. The nutrition chart has too much listed, but with a deep breath he opens the drink and then stares at Jay as he takes a sip. "Do I have to spit in it too?"

"No," Carlos answers. "I think we got all we needed."

"What?" Ben looks between the two of them. "What is this?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Jay counters. "I thought you didn't drink Gatorade." Ben's mouth opens slightly. "Or, at least, that's what Evie told us when she came over today."

Ben furrows his eyebrows at him, "So, this was all what? Some kind of trick?"

"You could say that," Jay answers.

He shakes his head before standing from the table, "You're horrible." before he heads for the door; however, Jay blocks it.

"No," he counters, "you're the horrible one. Do you even know what the hell you did?" He steps forward, and Ben takes a step back. "You told Evie it wasn't safe."

"Because it isn't safe," Ben stands on his toes and widens his eyes at him. "It's nothing but sugar. No. Worse than that," he realizes before continuing more sternly. "It's syrup. What you're drinking is nothing more than a bottle of syrup." Jay pushes him, and Ben loses his balance, falling back onto the floor with his forearms catching him before his head can hit the ground. He sees Jay speak as he walks towards him, but it's all too familiar. With his height and his build, he could easily be his father. Ben shakes the thought from his mind. _It was only once. I lost my patience. I should have been patient_.

"Stop it," Carlos intervenes, as he steps in front of Jay. "You're scaring him."

"Maybe he deserves to be scared," Jay reasons, "after what he pulled." Ben slowly stands, as Jay comes even closer. "Evie hardly even eats, and now you're telling her not to drink things too?"

"I was trying to get her to drink the flavored water I had," Ben attempts to explain as his legs bump against something, and when he glances over he sees the bed behind himself.

"And you just had to dish dirt out on another drink while you were at it, huh?" Jay scrunches up the neck of Ben's shirt and grits his teeth, "Give me a reason not to settle this here and now."

Ben's breathing quickens, "I'm sorry." but he's still in his face. "I'm sorry." He cries, "I swear, I won't do it again."

Jay lets go of his shirt, "You'd better not." before he strides away, grabbing a drink from the table on his way out of the room.

Carlos watches as Ben takes a few deep breathes, his mouth gaped open and tears still escaping his eyes, before he collapses down on the edge of the bed. Carlos walks up to him, "Are you okay?" He stares at the middle of the floor. "Ben?"

He takes a moment to slide his sleeve up, but when he does the rug burn isn't there, "Yeah." Ben wipes the tears from his face, "I'm fine." He gulps before looking up at Carlos, "Thank you."

"He wouldn't have hurt you," Carlos lets him know, before he notices Ben hold onto his forearm. "I mean, if he did, he didn't mean to."

"No one means to hurt anyone," Ben whispers as he pulls the sleeve back down. "It just happens." Carlos doesn't speak. "Don't worry. I'm not going to report him."

"You're not?" Carlos skeptically asks in surprise.

"No." Ben glances down, "It's not like he really hurt me, and accidents happen. There's no reason to make a big deal out of it."

"I mean," Carlos unsurely comments, "I'm not sure if that could actually be considered an accident."

"Still," Ben evenly responds. "He was just upset. There's no reason to punish him for that." He taps his thumbs on his legs, "Besides. If he apologizes later, I'd feel guilty about turning him in now."

It takes a minute for Carlos to say, "I suppose that makes sense."

Ben stands up and points towards the door, "I'd better leave." before he walks out.

* * *

"King Ben. What can I do for you this evening?"

"My father set up a reservation," he frowns. "I'm supposed to meet him here."

"Ah," the host responds, before he looks over the roster. "Yes, yes. Here you are." He smiles, "Follow me." Ben looks around, as he sees several stares and phones. He has no doubt that by the end of the night at least a couple dozen photos of him will have been posted online. "Here you go." Ben sits down where Mal had sat previously. "The waitress will be with you shortly." Ben tries to smile, but after he leaves it falls again.

He looks around the closed off area for a minute: the dim, yellow lighting, the red brick wall, and the small diamond cutouts of the room separator. It's private. It's discrete. It's enclosed. _What am I doing here?_ He begins to stand from the table, but when the waitress enters through the opening he sits back down.

She smiles at him, "What can I do for you tonight?"

It takes him a moment to respond, "We'll just have the steak."

The brunette writes it down, "Cola or wine?"

"Actually." Her eyes are so innocently blue, and he contemplates whether she may have some dark secrets of her own. _No. She looks too happy for that_. "Do you serve milk? I forget."

"We have whole milk, fat free, or coconut."

Ben glances down as he thinks of which his father would prefer, "Whole."

She jots it down, "Anything else?" Ben shakes his head. "Okay, then. I will have that for you soon."

After a moment of her standing there Ben breathes a laugh, "Right." before he gestures. "Thank you, Bridget."

"Are you sure you don't want that wine— or maybe some tea?" she offers. "You seem really stressed."

"It's nothing," Ben slowly explains as he clasps his hands together. "Just a meeting with my father. If I'm lucky, he won't try to change my mind on policy again."

She shows her teeth, "Good luck."

He nods, "Thank you. Really." before she turns around and exits the section. Ben moves his hands over his face and then sets his arms down onto the table, before the second passes and he opts to take out his phone instead. There's a text from his father. _Running late_. He exits the messages, pulls up his contacts, and his finger lingers over the call button for a minute before he finally presses it.

"Ben?"

"Hey, Mom," he breathes. "How's it going?"

"Fine. You?"

It takes him a moment to respond, "How's Dad? Or, ah, how has he been, I should say. Is he doing well?"

"Why, yes," his mother replies. "He's been relatively fine all week. Well, you know, aside from that little incident last Sunday." Ben nods. "Honey? You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," Ben glances down. "It's just nice to hear your voice."

She laughs. "Aww. It's nice to hear from you too." Ben smiles. "You know, honey… I hope you know I'm still here for you. It was… misguided of me to keep you from that knowledge about yourself. I know that now, but we really were only doing what we thought would be best for you."

Ben evenly responds, "I know."

"Are you okay?" she questions again.

"Yeah," Ben reconfirms. "Dad just wanted us to meet for dinner."

"What?" his mother questions. "He didn't tell me that."

Ben frowns, "Should I be worried?"

"No. Of course, not," he hears his mother smile. "He probably just wants to apologize for not letting us finish our talk yesterday." Ben nods. "Just—" His mouth cracks open. "Try not to test him. If you're in a public place, a scene doesn't need to be made."

Ben half laughs, "Mother. I never try to test him. For God's sake, he tests himself."

"Be patient," she reminds him. "Don't upset him."

Ben is quiet for a minute, before he sees his father through the diamonds of the wood, "I have to go."

"Wait. Ben," his mother urges.

He ends the call and puts his phone away, before his father enters through the opening. He sits down, "Sorry, I'm late. I lost track of time." Ben touches his watch, pressing down the upper right button three times as he waits for his father to continue. "Has the waitress come yet?"

"Yes," Ben answers. "We're having steak and milk."

His father smiles, "Good. It's nice to know you can choose to be healthy on your own."

Ben strains a smile, "Yes. It is." but it turns into a grin when he sees Bridget again.

She takes the steaks off of the platter and sets each in front of them, "Here you go." before she places the two glasses and pitcher of milk in the center of the table. She smiles from Ben to his father and back again, "Will that be all?"

"Yes," Ben nods. "Thank you."

When the waitress leaves his father comments, "Good looking girl, isn't she?"

Ben frowns, "Dad—"

"I'm just saying," he explains, "that if I were your age, then she would be a very respectable choice."

He folds his hands together and squeezes them, "I have a girlfriend."

"Yeah," his father leans in and whispers. "A girlfriend who is in jail pending changes of sexual assault. Even if she is found innocent, it doesn't change how the public sees her."

"Dad," Ben says again before taking in a deep breath, but as he lets it out his father starts to speak again.

"That waitress, on the other hand. She's beautiful. Kind. And if she's working here, then she has to be human, right?"

Ben shuts his eyes for a moment, as he attempts another calming breath, "Father." He looks at him, "Mal makes me happy. You want me to be happy, don't you?"

"Of course," his father frowns.

"Good," Ben glances down for a second. "Then the matter is settled." He takes the pitcher and pours the milk into his glass. "Why did you want to meet here?"

When Ben sets it back down his father does the same, "You used to like it here. I thought it would be a nice place to talk."

"To talk about what?" Ben inquires.

"About the whole us keeping that secret from you," he answers. "I know it can't have been easy finding out the way you did, but you must realize that you're more than what some document says. You're smart. Determined. A lot like your mother like that." He gestures, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that what you may or may not be doesn't matter. In the end you're still you. The lack of you knowing this information hasn't changed anything."

Ben furrows his eyebrows at him, "Is that your idea of an apology?"

"We just wanted what was best for you," his father defends.

"Yeah. I get that," Ben frustrates, before he takes in a deep breath and lets it out fast. "But I still deserve an apology. Mom apologized. Why can't you?"

"I just don't see what I did wrong."

"You lied to me," Ben furiously whispers. "You said you didn't know what was wrong with me. All that time of me questioning whether I'd live or die, and you just said it would be fine, that we didn't need to know why so long as we had the solution."

"Would knowing really have made it any easier?" his father questions.

"Yes," Ben slowly lets out, as he feels his eyes moisten. "You know how scary it is to know that your ailment doesn't have a name, that you're the only one with it?"

"Knowing wouldn't have changed that," he tries to reason. "You still would have been the only child of a person who was once cursed to be a beast."

"At least I would have known why," Ben whispers.

It takes a minute for him to comment, "I'm sorry, but it was the best course of action at the time."

"Was it?" Ben doubts.

"Yes," his father assures. "Now, drop this nonsense and eat. I've said what I had to."

Ben frowns down at the rare steak, before he eyes the section opening; however, when his father looks at him he looks back down at the steak and starts cutting it to pieces. Five squares down and seven across, he counts. _That makes thirty-five_. He stabs the meat with the fork; however, it's so thick that only two pieces fit at a time, and he watches the red juice drip as he examines it in the air.

"So," his father breaks the silence. "The quarterly budget meeting is coming up."

"I don't feel like talking about politics right now," Ben quickly replies.

"Why not?" his father questions, but all Ben can do is look up for a brief moment with his mouth slightly open, before he shuts it, shakes his head, and stares back down at the plate. "It's important, you know. How you spend that tax money can make all the difference."

"I know," Ben simply responds, before he eats the first square of meat from his fork.

"How are you planning on using it?" his father questions.

Ben continues to frown as he looks back up at him, "Are we really doing this right now?"

"Doing what?"

"Arguing," Ben predicts.

"It's just a discussion," his father comments.

"No. It isn't," Ben responds louder. "It's never a discussion. All it ever is is you trying to pound my head in with how you want it done, until the one to three hours are finished and I finally retreat to go lift weights and cry."

He sees the tears in his son's eyes, "I see now, I've made a mistake. Clearly, you're still too young to be able to handle all of this."

Ben painfully laughs, "The job isn't the problem. You are. If you'd just let me rule the way I think is best, then there'd never be an issue."

"Your idea of ruling," he sternly replies, "is to increase wages and give handouts."

"It's not handouts," Ben denies. "Farmers deserve more incentive for the grueling work they do, and the dwarves— They're the prime income of our economy, and yet all of the money they make goes straight to the government. They deserve more than just one percent of their earnings. It's not fair."

"But then we won't have money for what really matters," his father debates. "What about the money we need for infrastructure, for city maintenance and potholes."

"What potholes?" Ben furrows his eyebrows at the absurdity. "The kingdom already looks perfect. I think it can afford a few hundred dollars less in funding."

"It won't look perfect after you're finished with it. You'll see. Once all that money is spent elsewhere— to places that would be expected to be permanent, mind you— then the kingdom will start to fall apart. This whole country will."

"Look," Ben gestures, "I get that you're obsessed with outward appearances appearing to be perfect, but that doesn't mean anything if the people are suffering."

"This is Auradon," his father counters. "No one suffers here."

"Not even the hybrids who wouldn't be allowed to work here?" Ben questions, but then he gasps and shuts his eyes, as the loud sound is heard.

"You listen here." When Ben opens his eyes they pinpoint to the fork in front of him. "As king, hard decisions have to be made. Not everyone can have everything. There's only so much money to go around, and it should be used to better the entire country, not just a couple job sectors. And appearances. Appearances are key. No one is going to be happy if this place doesn't look happy. It has to look good, because if it doesn't then they would question everything."

"Is everything okay in here?"

Ben looks up from the fork and notices the concern on the waitress's face. He wets his lips, "Yeah. Everything is fine." before his father also notices and slowly moves the utensil away from Ben. "My father was just showing me how different the forks are here to the ones we have." He tries to settle his breathing as he notices the milk running down the red brick and the broken glass on the floor. "He accidently knocked the pitcher with his elbow. I apologize."

Bridget continues to frown, "How about I get someone to clean this up?"

Ben glances at his father before answering, "Yes. That would be great." She slowly moves away, but then Ben speaks again. "Ah. Can I get the check too? I want to pay it before I forget." She only nods before leaving.

His father takes in his surroundings, "I'm sorry. I—"

"It's fine," Ben evenly comments, but then he gulps, as he can still feel the tears burn in his eyes. He tries to settle his breathing, "It was an accident." but his heart still beats fast.

"I was just trying to get you to understand," his father tries to explain, "that you need to think of this country as a whole. You can't make every individual person happy."

It takes a minute for Ben to respond, "I know." before the long haired waitress comes in and sets the check down. Ben reaches for it, but then he sees his father's hand also go on it.

"Let me take care of it." Ben gives him an unsure look. "I'm the one that asked you to dinner. I should be the one to pay for it." Ben looks up past the waitress at the wall opening. He can either pay the check himself and leave now or he could let his father pay and stay longer.

"I have a lot of homework to get done," Ben excuses.

"If you have to leave, I understand," his father responds. "Just let me pay. Please."

Ben takes his hand off of the check, "Goodnight." before he stands and slowly paces away.

* * *

\- **ThatGayNerd** Your comments have been very motivating. Thank you very much. Your reviews are always very informative and it's clear that you're reading the author's notes too (Thank you for everyone who is currently doing that! I know they can get a little long sometimes—or in the case of my Harry Potter fic all the time— so it's great to know that people are actually reading them.) I look forward to seeing how you respond to this chapter, assuming you have something to say about it. It was really eventful, but I understand that when it comes to certain topics some people are reluctant to respond and would rather just take the situation/information in (which is also fine).

\- **Elizabeth Annette** I'd like to thank you for all of the responses you have left so far. It's always great to see what a reader thinks of a chapter, even if it isn't always the most positive review. Also, please don't take any offense to my clarifications at the top of the page. It's not personal. I'm just insecure like that, and when I see one person confused or frustrated and it appears to be more towards the writing itself and not the characters and/or their situations, then I feel the need to explain things because if one person is confused or frustrated then that may mean other people are too. However, whether your last response was frustration with the writing itself or just more excitement for a certain plot, your honesty is appreciated and I still really love your reviews. I like how you're able to empathize with the characters. It's sweet. So, please continue. Don't let my insecurities stop you.

\- Anyway, I hope everyone liked this chapter... or well, found it interesting. The next one involves Evie... Prepare yourself. It starts out a little strong.


	81. Crazy

**Crazy**

 **(Day 48: Friday Afternoon)**

When Evie gets out of the cab she stares at the long and thin, single level building. The stone is grey, but the parking lot contains blue posts and there are green hedges surrounding the entire place. She walks down the sidewalk, along and up towards the metal doors, before she walks on inside. _Ben said to find the desk guy_. She looks around from the people waiting in the blue plastic chairs, to the vending machines and the restroom sign, before looks back over to the other side and sees the man behind the clear separator. She can't tell if it's made of plastic or glass, but as she walks closer she can clearly see the informative posters and taped up papers.

"Don't move!"

Evie turns around to see who it is, but as soon as she does the bang is heard and when she looks down the blood can be seen staining her clothes. She covers her abdomen with her hand, before she slowly looks back up at the man in uniform. "What," she begins to say.

"Quiet," the officer commands, as he continues to hold the gun straight out at her. "Drop your weapon." Evie searches over herself, but from what she can tell she has nothing which could be considered a weapon. All she has is her leather purse hanging on one arm and her phone being held in the other hand. She eyes her phone for a moment in suspicion. He can't be serious. She lifts her arm up as she starts to cough. "I said don't move!" She continues to cough, tasting the iron in her mouth, and as she attempts to breathe she finds it increasingly difficult. "Drop your weapon now," the tan man commands. She tries to speak, but she can't. "Now!" Evie stares at him, her heart racing as she feels the cold sweat on her face. "Last warning!" Evie drops the phone from her hand, but that's it; at that same moment he shoots again, and this time it feels like an eternity when the bullet hits her. She feels it make pressure on her forehead, it drill through her skull, and then that's it. All that's left is the dark.

* * *

"Hey. Are you okay?"

After Evie hears the woman's voice she slowly opens her eyes to reveal the blond. She groans, as the pain still resides with her; however, when she moves her hand from her abdomen no blood is seen. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," the woman comments, "but I think you fainted."

Evie sits up, "Where's my phone?" before she finds it slid under one of the chairs. She takes a look at it, and she's grateful to know that hardly any time has passed.

"Maybe you should get a snack and then sit down," the woman suggests.

"No." Evie begins to stand, "I need to see my friend." but then she looks at her for a moment. "Thank you."

She smiles, "Your welcome." before Evie watches her return to her seat next to the sleeping baby in the yellow carrier.

Evie turns away and looks back at the desk guy, before she walks up to him and waits for him to get off the phone. "What can I do for you?"

"A friend of mine is being held here," she informs. "I need to see her."

"What's your friend's name?" he questions.

"Mal," Evie quickly responds.

He looks up at her in horror, "As in Mal Bertha, the king's girlfriend?"

"That would be the one," Evie frowns.

He looks over her, "What are you?"

"What do you mean?" she half smiles.

"Your species," he explains. "What are you?"

"Human," Evie quietly answers, before she opens her purse to find her wallet. "Ben said I'd need some ID," before she hands it to him, "but I've never been to a hospital before."

"Neither did that kid yesterday," the guy comments as he looks her up on the computer. "But at least he looked human." He eyes her suspiciously, "Why's your hair blue?"

"Because my mom can be a royal pain," Evie answers, but that doesn't seem to be good enough for him. "She shoved my head into a bucket of bleach, and now it looks dead. That's why I dye it." He doesn't speak, "Can I see my friend or not?"

He hands her back her ID, "Take a seat. Someone will be out in a minute to take you to her." and then she tries to smile before going to sit down.

Evie takes out her phone again, before she enters the password and goes to her text messages. She clicks on Ben's name. _They're letting me see her. I'll let you know how it goes_. A few minutes pass before she gets a response. _No need for details. Just let me know how she is_. Evie texts back, "K." and it's not long after she puts her phone away that she hears her name.

When she looks up she sees the guard at the double doors, and when she walks up to him he comments, "I've been instructed to walk an Evie Queen to Mal Bertha's cell."

"That's me," Evie attempts to smile.

The blond guard nods, "Follow me." and Evie does as she's told. They go through the blue doors and head down the narrow hallway. She didn't think it was possible, but the place looks even grimmer now than it had before. At least from the outside they covered the grey brick with greenery and that the waiting room had been decorated with brown tables, blue chairs, and multicolored vending machines with posters on the walls. Here it was just bleak. You can hear the water running through the exposed pipes, and the white floor is dirtied with shoe prints. "Your friend is being held in block C. As a high security area, you will be required to turn over all electronic devices, remove any jewelry or wristbands, and leave your bag behind until you leave. You are not allowed to take in any books or playing cards, and you are not allowed to supply the prisoner with a long toothbrush, two-layer toilet paper, or any clothes. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Evie comments, but then she questions, "Why not toilet paper or cards?"

The guard laughs, "People get very creative in here. Strong toilet paper can be turned into a sharp weapon, and playing cards can be turned into bombs. Or so I'm told. I've been lucky enough not to have experienced anything so inspiring."

Evie nods, "It's probably better that way." but then she halts at the sight of the black haired guard with the slate grey eyes. "It's you."

The guy guarding the metal door eyes her, "Excuse me?"

"You're the one," Evie recognizes. "You're the one that killed me."

He raises his eyebrows at her, "I'm sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but you're still very alive."

"No. It was you. I know it was you," she confidently comments. "You're the one that shot me." She looks over him in confusion, "Where'd your gun go?"

The blond guard walks back to them, "Is there a problem here?"

"He's the one that shot me," Evie accuses, but the guard shakes his head as though he has no clue. She reminds him, "It was in the stomach. You yelled for me not to move, and then when I turned around you shot me. You told me to drop my weapon, but I had no weapon."

When his mouth gapes the blond guard turns to him, "Do you know what she's talking about?"

He purses his lips and shakes his head, "No. I don't."

"You killed me," Evie nearly yells. "I know it was you. You did it." She turns to the blond, "He has to pay for what he did."

The black haired man excuses, "Clearly, the girl is confused. Maybe you should take her back and make sure she gets picked up."

"No," Evie insists. "I have to see my friend."

The blond guard raises a hand, "Don't worry. We'll get you to your friend." and with a final piercing look at the grey eyed man he guides Evie down the hall. "Come on." They continue down the hallway before taking a left, and in the middle of that hallway there's another metal door. "Place your belongings in the bin, please." Evie does as she's requested, but when she's finished the blond comments, "Your hair pins too."

She looks at him, "I'm not allowed to wear my hairclips?"

"They're made of metal," he explains. "She could turn it into a weapon."

Evie laughs, "Mal is a weapon. She doesn't need to make one."

"It's policy," he calmly insists.

Evie takes a loud breath, "Alright." before she removes her clips and the curls fall one by one. She smiles at him, "Happy now?"

He smiles before typing the code into the keypad, "Here you go." and when the door opens she walks inside.

Mal smiles, "Evie?"

Evie grins, "It's nice to see you too."

"I don't understand," Mal comments in disbelief. "They allowed you to see me?"

"I'm human," Evie raises an eyebrow. "That helps."

Mal lets out a breath, "I'm so glad to see you." before she hugs her through the bars; however, then she quickly releases her.

Evie sees the horror on her face, before she turns around and sees the guard holding the stun gun. She squints her eyes at him, "Put it to rest. She's not a threat to me." He reluctantly puts the weapon away, and then she turns back around and reaches for Mal's hand. "You're cold." She looks up at her, "I thought you were getting visitors."

"I am," Mal evenly confirms, "but it's not like I'm going to make out with Ben's mother or his lawyer."

Evie expresses her disgust, "Good point." before she seductively smiles at her. "It's a good thing I'm here, then." Mal laughs, before Evie places her hands underneath the hem of Mal's fluorescent orange t-shirt.

She looks up at the camera, "We're being watched."

"So," Evie entices as she guides her towards her.

"So," Mal smiles, half in unsureness and half in excitement. "What if people see? What if it's shown to—"

Evie uses one of her hands to place a finger over Mal's lips, "Don't worry. I got permission."

"What?" Mal disbelieves.

"He's more concerned about your survival right now," Evie smiles, before she guides Mal's hand to her neck and she breathes a shiver. "So, have me."

Mal smiles as she brings her other hand to Evie's cheek, "Whatever you say, princess." before she moves in and they kiss between the bars.

* * *

"She must be a really good friend for you to stay that long," the blond guard comments as visiting hours end and Evie exits the room.

"We had a lot to talk about." He nods as he shuts the door, and Evie starts to gather her belongings. "So, how does this work? Are you taking me back, or am I no longer a threat now that the visit is over?"

"We guide people for their own safety," he evenly responds, before he turns to her. "What about that other guard we saw earlier? You said he killed you?"

Evie rolls her eyes, "Don't worry about it. I was just being stupid."

He's quiet for a moment, "Tell me what you remember."

"Why?" Evie questions. "Clearly, it didn't happen."

"Or maybe it happened to someone else," the guard counters. "Maybe you were just being possessed by a spirit who wants people to know the truth."

"You believe in spirits?" Evie unsurely questions.

"Mermaids and angels are real," the guard reasons. "So, what? Just because ghosts aren't corporeal that means that they can't be? Genies barely are either."

"I see things sometimes," Evie disproves. "It's nothing."

"I'd still like to know," he comments, and then Evie watches as he takes out a notepad and pen. "What do you remember?"

She looks up as she thinks, "I was walking into the building, someone yelled for me not to move, and when I turned around to see who it was I was shot in the stomach. That guard had a gun pointed at me. He told me to drop my weapon, but from what I could tell I didn't have one." Evie shakes her head, "This is crazy."

"Go on," the blond prompts.

Evie lets out a breath, "I think I was coughing up blood. I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe… And then when he shot me in the head it was over."

"What about your surroundings? Was there a calendar or a season?"

She slowly shakes her head, "It was just the waiting room… I don't know. Maybe one of the vending machines was missing?"

"Good," he nods as he writes it down. "I can work with that."

"What are you going to do?" Evie questions.

"Honesty," the guard looks at her, "there probably isn't anything I can do. I still want to check it out, though, so I can know if my coworker really is as shady as you suggest." Evie nods in understanding. "If you'd like, I can let you know if I find anything. But I would need your phone number."

She hesitates, "Uh, yeah. Sure." before she says it to him and he writes it down.

When he puts the items back into his jacket he comments, "Follow me, and I will take you back to the waiting room."

After they make it there and say goodbye Evie turns back around and starts to head out, but before she can the desk guy calls after her, "Miss. Hold on." She looks at him. "I forgot to have you sign in. I need you to sign your name on the visitor's sheet."

She smiles and walks up to him, "Of course." before she signs her name and estimates what time she got there before noting what time she's now leaving.

"Thank you," he cheerfully responds. "Have a nice day."

"You too," Evie comments, before she goes, walks out the door, and trails the sidewalk; however, when she makes it past the building she feels someone put a hand to her mouth and pull her into the shade.

He has her up against the brick, "Don't scream. Just tell me, who are you? Who sent you?" before he uncovers her mouth, but she fails to speak. "How did you find that information on me? Who told you? What game are you playing here?"

Evie stares at the black haired guard for a moment, "Are you real?" and then she watches as he looks off into the distance.

When he looks back at her he nods for her to leave, "Go on. Scram, before I change my mind." She continues to stare at him. "What are you waiting for? An invitation?" He points his finger towards the parking lot, "Get out of here you crazy freak."

Evie continues to frown, opening her mouth to say that if he weren't real he wouldn't have called her crazy, but then she decides against it and simply walks away instead. She pulls out her phone, calls a cab, and, as usual, she moves on as though it never even happened.

* * *

\- Okay. So, these are like serious questions that annoy me that I can't quite seem to find the answers to: **1** ) What is the desk guy at the jail called? **2** ) Are the guards called officers or do they have a different title?... That's about it, I think. Let me know if you know. By the way, in case anyone is wondering how jail visits normally go... I was only in like elementary or middle school at the time, but I just remember seeing the person through a piece of glass and then using a phone to hear what they're saying. I think the visit was only about fifteen minutes before we were cut off... Actually. It might have been prison? I don't remember. Sorry.


	82. Stowaway

**Stowaway**

 **(Day 49: Saturday Night)**

"We should have more farms."

"Or," Chad slowly counters, "we could work on the actual production of the food so that there's less waste."

"We can't afford that." Ben points, "See. The building would cost too much."

"We could just increase the taxes."

"But then people won't spend their money and the economy will crash," Ben worries.

"But there'd be new jobs," Chad counters. "People love jobs."

Ben looks at him in annoyance, "I think the people would like to be able to afford their food even better. If we did what you suggest, then the population would drop dramatically."

Chad shrugs, "So?"

"So?" Ben widens his eyes at him. "You would have all of those people die?"

"Ben." Chad laughs, "It's just a game."

Ben lets out a breath as he turns back to the screen and mumbles, "There was a time when you took this more seriously."

"Yeah. When I was twelve," Chad comments, before he takes some more chips from the large bowl."

Ben glances down, "Go easy on those. I was only able to smuggle in so many bags. If you finish those, then we'll be left eating vegetable chips for the rest of the night."

"What's up with that anyway?" Chad questions. "You're sixteen, and your mom still doesn't let you eat real snacks."

"It's not just her," Ben responds. "Both of my parents want me to be healthy." He shakes his head, "I have a bad immune system. They must think it will help." Ben moves the joystick to jump from object to object, "What are we going to do?"

"The farms are fine." Ben places two more. "I'm glad we could do this."

Ben looks over at him, "Yeah. Me too."

He frowns, looking down for a second, "If I say something, do you promise not to get mad at me."

"That depends." Ben offers a questioning look, "What is it?"

It takes a second for Chad to confess, "I only started to hook up with Audrey, because you were dating her."

Ben stares at him for a moment, "Remind me how that makes any literal sense at all."

"I don't know." He shrugs, "I guess, I just didn't like that you two were together."

"You were jealous of me," Ben guesses.

"No." It takes a minute for Chad to find the words, "It was more like I was being protective of you or something, I guess."

Ben lets out a stressed breath, "Chad. I understand that we've known each other for a very long time, but our lives are separate. You've got to be able to let me date."

"I know," he acknowledges. "But it just felt wrong seeing you two together. I just— I really didn't like it."

"So, you stole her from me."

"Basically."

Ben shakes his head, "Do you even like Audrey?"

"Yeah. Of course," Chad quickly answers, but then his response slows. "But that was only after I got to know her. Before then, she was just another pretty face."

"Well, at least you're not a total jerk," Ben says as he places a hand to his face. "What about Mal? Do you really believe what you said about her or were you just being protective of me then too?"

"Maybe a little of both?" Ben nods as he takes the information in. "You don't hate me, do you?"

Ben sighs, "No, Chad. I don't hate you. I hate the things you do sometimes, but no. I don't hate you."

He partly smiles, "Good." but then he sees the clock. "Is that really the time?"

Ben looks over his shoulder, "Should be." before he checks his phone. "Yeah. It's one in the morning."

"Crap," Chad slowly realizes, before he takes out his own phone. "It's dead."

"Why does it matter? Did your ride turn into a pumpkin at midnight?"

Chad narrows his eyes at him and smiles, "Shut up." before he frowns again. "Audrey has this thing where she likes to meet at the end of each night, so she can know I'm not cheating."

"I don't see how that's supposed to stop you, but okay."

Chad looks up at him, "I'm not cheating."

"Sure, you're not," Ben evenly comments.

"Having other people do my homework is not cheating."

Ben gives him a look, "Take a minute to think about what you just said."

"You know what I meant." Chad asserts, "I'm not cheating on Audrey by having some girl do my homework."

"You are if you're luring those girls into your room and coercing them into sexual favors," Ben counters.

"I have," Chad looks up, "never done that."

"Uh huh," Ben disbelieves. "There you were blocking Mal from entering my room, saying that girls aren't allowed in the boys' dorms, and here you are taking girls to your room all the time."

"It's not all the time," he denies.

"It's enough," Ben replies. "For your sake, I really hope that you aren't cheating. Audrey can be a force to reckon with when she wants to be." He gestures, "Like a poisonous flower."

"Well, I'm not," Chad reassures.

"I'm not the one you have to convince," Ben reminds him, and there's silence as Chad's jaw drops at the realization. "It's getting late. Why don't you find a guestroom to sleep in?"

"No," Chad shakes his head. "I need to get back to my room."

Ben gives a look, "You're not going back to school in the middle of the night. For all we know they could have the front doors locked."

"I can be a little moody first thing in the morning," he warns. "You don't want to see me like that."

"I'll take my chances." Ben smiles, "Now. Get off your stubborn rear and get to bed. We can sneak you out in the morning."

"Your parents don't know I'm here?" Chad questions.

"They probably don't even know I'm here," Ben admits as he scratches the back of his head. "I may have neglected to tell them I was coming."

"Well. It's your castle too," Chad reminds him. "So, it can't be that bad."

Ben is quiet for a minute, "Never mind about me." before he saves the game and shuts off the television. "Let's find you a room. And don't wake anyone up."

"Don't worry," Chad comments. "I'll be quiet."

"Good," Ben evenly responds as he stands, but when Chad stands he touches his shoulder for a second. "Wait." He looks at him, "I've been wondering, on Valentine's Day when I was being rude to you, what were you going to tell me?"

"Oh." Chad laughs, "Nothing. I was just going to say that I care about you and that I wouldn't want to make your life miserable… I want you to be happy."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he steps back away from the couch. "Come on."

* * *

When Ben hears the door open he looks up, "Oh. Hey, Mom."

"Early start?" she questions.

Ben sorts the papers on his desk, "Something like that. I'm going over that human safety act Dad passed." before he looks back up at her. "Did you know that private schools have the right to refuse hybrid students?"

His mother sighs, "Fairy Godmother would never be so short sighted."

Ben merely looks down, "She won't be around forever." but as the silence drags on he looks up again. "You didn't come into my office at five in the morning just to see how I was doing, did you?"

"No," she answers before coming in and shutting the door behind her. "One of the maids found your little stowaway." She crosses her arms, "You're supposed to tell us when you plan to bring company over."

"We were just hanging out." Ben explains, "With the trial and everything we thought a private place would be best."

"What if your father hadn't been feeling well?" his mother worries.

"Look," Ben tries to reason. "Chad was in the living room the entire time. He never left. I was the one getting drinks and grabbing snacks."

"That's beside the point," she sternly responds. "You're supposed to warn me when someone is coming over."

Ben is silent for a moment, "You're right. I should have told you. It won't happen again."

She nods, "Okay, then." before she lets her arms loosen some. "Since he is here, maybe you'd like to have him stay for breakfast?"

"Oh. Ah, no," Ben frowns. "We really need to get back to the school. "We planned to last night, but time escaped us."

"How is it," his mother questions, "spending time with him again?"

"It's fine," Ben evenly answers, but she waits for more of an explanation. "He's being open with me, I think. That makes it better than before."

She nods, "And he hasn't been posting any secrets of yours online?"

Ben nearly rolls his eyes, "He's just a very social person. He can't help it." When she stays quiet he wets his lips, "But, no… I haven't even told him anything."

"Good," his mother comments. "Keep it that way."

"Mom," Ben begins.

"When he posted that dare of you stealing from the health store the people were outraged," she reminds him.

"I paid them back the same day," Ben defends. "I had plans to tell them about the dare even before the video was posted."

"And even after we set the interview for you to explain that, the people still had their doubts." Ben stays quiet. "And what about that time when he told everyone about your gambling?"

"God, Mom." Ben places a hand to his head, "I was just trying to have a little fun. And as far as Chad goes, it was just political. If I'm seen unfit to rule, then he's the next viable option."

"Gamboling is illegal," she reminds him.

"And yet everyone does it anyway," he counters. "It's not an enforced law. So, can we please just drop it already?"

"That depends. Are you still doing it?" she questions.

It takes a moment for Ben to reply, "If I do it again, I promise to tell you."

"No," she rejects. "You're king now. You can't keep breaking the law. If you do, then what will the law become to your citizens other than some arbitrary notion?"

Ben shuts his eyes, "Fine." before opening them again and smiling at her. "The next time the guys invite me to play a game I'll just have to tell them I'm not allowed to have fun." She gives him a look, and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"You don't have to break the law to have fun," she lets him know.

"I know," Ben frowns. "I'm sorry." She doesn't speak, so he continues, "And not to be rude or anything, but I really would like to finish reading this before it's time for us to head back to school."

She slightly nods, "Alright. I will leave you to it, then." before she opens the door.

It takes a second for Ben to say, "I love you."

She laughs as she smiles back, "I love you too." before she exits the room and closes the door behind herself."

Ben looks back down at the copy of the Human Rights to Safety Act, before he thumbs over the remaining pages. _Thirty-two done_. _Only twenty-two to go_. He shakes his head, takes out his phone, and takes a break to look through his missed messages. _Doug: Where are you? Doug: If you don't tell me where you are, then I'm going to throw your homework in the trash. Doug: Okay. So, I'm not going to throw your homework away, but you left your tic-tacs here. I'm really hoping you weren't wanting to keep them with you_. Ben shuts his eyes as he releases a breath, before he taps the message box, "Sorry for worrying you. I'm at my parents. I have mints here. I'm fine."

After pressing send he moves onto the next couple messages. _Jay: Carlos is telling me to apologize. So, yeah. There you go. Jay: By the way, Gatorade is still the best thing ever_. Ben snickers, unable to control the grin on his face until his yawns. He tiredly looks over the pages again. _All of this reading is exhausting_.

When he hears his phone go off he sees Doug's response. _I don't like to swear, but you've been real jerk-like lately_.

 _I know_. Ben answers. _I'm sorry_.

It doesn't even take ten seconds for him to receive the next text. _You could have been lying dead somewhere_.

Ben frowns. _I wasn't planning on being out that long. I lost track of time. I'm sorry_.

 _And if you weren't at your parents?_

Ben breathes before muttering the next response, "I'll be more careful. I promise."

It takes a minute for Doug to comment. _You can promise me in person. You wake me up this early, you'd better be having breakfast with me_.

Ben smiles. _Don't worry. I'll be there_.

 _Good_.

Ben waits a few minutes for the conversation to somehow continue, but Doug doesn't say anything else and he doesn't know how to respond. He takes a deep breath as he sets his phone down. He has no more excuses to make. He eyes the long document. He has to finish reading it. Ben leans back in the chair, lays one knee over the edge of the desk, and continues to read. _It's going to be a long morning_.

* * *

\- Yeah. It took me a minute to think of what trivial secrets Ben could possibly have of which could have already been exposed. I mean, it doesn't matter how well he was raised, everyone still does stupid stuff, right? However, I'm not completely satisfied with the examples I chose. Like, I know peer pressure is a thing and that you're more likely to do something if the other people around you are doing it too, but still. It seems off somehow.

\- Also, it's gotten past the point where I feel the need to let everyone know that I neither work for Gatorade or Propel nor am I sponsored by them.

\- Just out of curiosity, how many of you were able to figure out Ben and Chad were playing a video game before it said so?


	83. I'm Okay

**I'm Okay**

 **(Day 50: Sunday Night)**

"King Ben. I wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

"Bridget," he partly smiles, "we've discussed this. Ben is just fine."

"Yes," she remembers. "I'm sorry."

Ben thinks for a moment, "Why weren't you expecting me?"

"Well, you have dinner with your parents on Sunday," she explains.

He scrunches his eyebrows in question, "How did you know that?"

"You told me."

"I told you?" Ben slightly shakes his head, "When was that?"

"About seven months ago. I made a joke about how often you come, asking if you were planning to come the next night too. You said you couldn't, because you have dinner with your parents every Sunday."

Ben grins, "You remembered that."

"Don't flatter yourself," she smiles back. "It's just good waitressing, but why aren't you at your parents, anyway?"

Ben looks down for a second, "I just couldn't deal with it tonight."

It takes a minute for her to respond, "What happened last time was really… Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ben answers. "It was just an accident."

"He had a fork two inches from your eyes," Bridget reminds him. "Whatever that was, it wasn't an accident."

"He was just a little upset," Ben defends.

"A little upset?" she raises her eyebrows. "He smashed a pitcher against the wall and then threatened you with a fork."

"It wasn't like that," he quietly comments.

"Has anything like that happened before?" she worries.

Ben glances down, "He would never lay a hand on me."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Ben looks up at her, "He just doesn't feel well sometimes. Okay?"

"Doesn't feel well?" She shakes her head, "What's that even supposed to mean?"

"Just what I said." Ben gestures, "Sometimes he isn't well."

"As in sometimes he gets violent," she suspects. He shakes his head. "Has he ever hurt you before?"

"No. Of course, not," Ben quickly says, but then the couple images flash through his mind. "Not really."

"What about your mother?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, "She would have told me if anything important happened."

"Did you tell her about what happened the other night?" the waitress asks.

Ben lets out a long breath, "I'm getting to it."

"Right," she responds before writing something on her order sheets.

"What are you doing?"

She hands the paper to him, "It's my number. If you need to talk to someone, feel free to call or text."

"I have friends," Ben frowns.

"Sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger," the waitress justifies.

He eyes her, "Well, that's going to be a problem, then. Because, you're not a stranger."

"No," Bridget acknowledges. "I'm an acquaintance, which is how you can know that I won't be recording any calls or posting any texts online."

Ben looks back down at the notepaper and shakes his head, "It's really not necessary."

She nods, "Okay." before she observes him intently. "If it's not necessary, then look into my eyes and tell me you're okay."

He looks into her light blue eyes, "I'm fine."

"No." She insists, "Not fine. Tell me you're okay."

Ben looks into her eyes again, "I'm—" but her worry is clear as day. "Okay." She hands the paper to him again, and he reluctantly takes it. "I won't be needing it."

"I hope not," she frowns. "Now." She hovers the pen over the order sheets again. "Will you be having the usual?"

"Uh, yeah," he answers.

"So, a large, extra rare steak with a basket of mozzarella sticks, barbeque chicken, and the Cola soda."

"Diet, if you have it."

She writes it down, "Anything else?"

"You know," Ben contemplates, "I've never really had dessert before. What's that like?"

"We have pie, cake, cookies, and ice cream."

"What about macadamia nut cookies?" he questions.

"We do have those," she informs.

He nods, "Yeah. I'll take some of those too."

"Three or five?" she questions.

"Five." Ben smiles, "I'll save a couple for later."

The waitress jots it down, "Okay, then. I will be back with your meal." but then she hears Ben's phone go off again. "That has to be the tenth call you've gotten."

"Yeah," Ben slowly answers, before uses a hand to explain, "This was really a last minute thing. I really should have been told to come back with a reservation, but this area was open and I'm king so…"

"Plus you pay well," she adds on, before she hears it ding and nods towards it. "You'd better get that. I expect silence when I return."

Ben laughs, "Don't worry. It will be silent." but as she leaves he frowns and merely turns the volume to silent. The next notification pops up, and Ben places a hand to his head as he goes to the text messages. _Doug: Your mom is worried. Where are you? Doug: You should call her_. Ben goes back and presses on his mom's texts. _Mom: You're late. Where are you? Mom: Your father told me what happened. Can we talk? Mom: Please tell me where you are. I'm getting worried. Let me know you're okay_.

Ben leans on the table as he taps the message box. _I'm fine. I'm at Starlit Nights. I_ — He pauses for a minute, before he erases the 'I' and continues. _Sorry I didn't let you know I wasn't coming_. He shakes his head at the absurdity. He's never missed a family dinner before, not unless it was important or he was sick. He lets out a stressed breath, presses the back button, and then starts over. _Sorry I couldn't come. I got busy_. He shakes his head again. _She's my mom. I'm not lying to her_. He sits in thought, as he tries to figure out how he could respond to each message. He could easily just say he's fine, but he's not really. If he was, then he would have showed. He should at least tell her where he is. _But then everyone would know I've been coming here alone_. He stares at the second text. _Your father told me what happened. Can we talk?_ He has no idea how to respond to that. How are they even supposed to talk about it? _These things just happen. There's nothing to even talk about_.

"Here you are." Ben looks back up and smiles at the sight of Bridget, turning his phone over and setting it back onto the corner of the table. "Here's your steak." She sets the two baskets on the other end of the table, "Your mozzarella sticks and chicken." before she places the soda in the middle. Ben watches her smile as she hands him the cookies, "Enjoy."

"I think I will," Ben replies before taking a bite of one of the cookies.

She slightly shakes her head in amusement, "I still don't know how you can eat so much and still stay so thin."

Ben frowns, "Fast metabolism." He shrugs. "Exercise."

"You're so lucky," she comments, but then Ben watches as she realizes what she had said. "I mean, just that I wish I could eat like you without any consequences. Obviously, no one's life is completely perfect. Not that what you're dealing with doesn't matter or anything. It's just that—"

"Thank you," Ben interrupts. "Really. For everything."

Bridget attempts to smile, "I should get to those other tables." Ben continues to tense his smile until she leaves, at which point he takes a relaxing breath, grabs a mozzarella stick as he fills his glass with soda, and then starts on his steak.

* * *

"There you are," Doug furrows his eyebrows, as Ben walks into the dorm. "I've been trying to reach you." Ben doesn't speak, just grabbing a Diet Coke from the mini fridge and then sitting down at the table. "Where've you been?"

"I went out to eat," Ben calmly comments as he sets the drink and cookie packages down, before he lifts one up for Doug. "You want it?"

"What I want," Doug sternly responds, "is an explanation." Ben starts on the cookie himself instead. "Your mom's had me on the phone half the night. She's scared."

Ben makes a noise as he shuts his eyes, "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Of course, she's scared," Doug frustrates. "She's been texting you with no response, and when she called your friends none of them knew where you were."

Ben's frown deepens, "She brought my friends into this?" Now he has more people than just Doug to explain this to.

"What's up with you?" He yells, "It's like you don't even care."

"Good," Ben evenly responds. "I'm not allowed to care. If I do, my fever raises and I get sick."

There's silence before Doug questions, "Why do you only know how to make jokes out of serious subjects?"

"Coping mechanism," Ben smiles. "When there's a lot going on in someone's life, then sometimes they will relieve stress by making jokes."

Doug narrows his eyes at him, "Call your mom."

Ben lets out a long breath, but when he takes his phone out he laughs, "Can't. It's dead." He looks up at Doug. "Must be from everyone trying to contact me."

Doug glares at him, before he takes his own phone out and sets it in front of Ben, "Call her. Now."

Ben stares down at it for a moment, "I don't feel like talking to her right now."

"Too bad." Doug takes the phone, calls Ben's mom, and then hands it to him.

"What—" Ben cuts himself off when his mother picks up. "Hi, Mom."

"Ben?" she lets out in relief. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

"I'm fine," he manages. "I'm back at the school."

"Wha— Where have you been?"

Ben looks up at Doug for a second, willing him to leave, but he continues to watch the call. "I was at a restaurant. I was going to come to dinner. Really, but… I couldn't deal with it tonight. I got cold feet, I guess."

There's silence for a moment, "Honey. Does this have anything to do with what happened with your father at the restaurant?"

He's quiet for a minute, "I'm just tired of it, you know? I have my own life. I can't deal with him all of the time."

"It's not all the time," his mother comments.

"It feels like it," Ben gulps, as he can feel the tears intrude his eyes. "It's never enough for him. I'm never going to be able to please him."

His mother breathes, "No, honey. You've made him very proud."

"Then why doesn't he show it?" Ben grits his teeth. "Why does he do these things?"

"He's just not very good with words," she excuses. "And as far as everything else goes…" She sighs, "He doesn't mean to do it. You know he doesn't." Ben stays silent, holding his breath to prevent himself from crying. "You just caught him on a bad night. That's all."

He can feel his face grow hot, "I'm just tired of it all."

"I know it's hard," she slowly responds, "but everything's going to be okay. Trust me." He takes short, calm breaths as he feels his forehead. "Ben?"

"I'm not feeling very well," he lets her know. "Can we go?"

"Yeah. Sure." He can hear the frown in her tone, before the forced smile escapes her lips, "Take care of yourself, and have a nice night."

"Night," Ben simply says, before he ends the call and hands the phone back to Doug.

He questions, "Your father is the reason behind this?"

Ben glances around, "Where's my water bottle?"

"I think you left it in the bathroom."

"Right," Ben breathes, before he carefully stands to his feet, walks to the bathroom, and finds his water bottle to fill it.

Doug follows him, "Are you okay?"

Ben walks back out, "I will be." before he kneels down by his bed, takes out the blue bin, and searches for the nighttime Alka-Seltzer.

"Your father," Doug begins. He expects Ben to interrupt him, but he doesn't. "What's going on between you two?"

Ben goes to sit back down at the table, dropping the tablets into the water bottle, "We just had this little argument the other night. Nothing that hasn't happened before. It only seems worse now, because I'm king and he doesn't trust me."

Doug sits back down as well, "If he doesn't trust you, then why did he pass the crown on to you?"

Ben's silent for a moment, as he breathes in the fizziness of the drink, "Stress isn't good for him. My mom thought if he had less of it, then he'd be better… I think it's just stressing him out even more, though, not to have that control."

It takes Doug a second to ask, "Is he sick like you're sick?"

"He has his own set of problems," Ben comments before downing the pills with the drink. "Whether it's beast related…" He shakes his head, "Mom thinks it's psychological."

"What do you think?" he questions.

Ben looks down for a moment, "I think that it doesn't matter whether he's stressed or not." before he frowns back up at Doug. "He's never been well, and he's never going to be." Doug nods in response. "How about a movie before bed to relax?"

He smiles, "Yeah. That would be great."

Ben hands him one of his cookies, "Tell me I'm a jerk again."

Doug takes it as he breathes, "So, you're not that jerk-like."

Ben smiles, "How about an animated comedy?" before he changes the news channel to the movie selection.

"Yeah." Doug agrees, "That sounds good."

* * *

\- Just so everyone knows, I do plan on getting back to the other storylines. The reason why we're getting more into Ben's stuff right now is because I didn't feel like it would make a ton of sense for a couple of the other sub/plots to happen while Mal is awaiting trial (ex: I don't think Jay is going to be terribly focused on Carlos's situation right now)... I don't exactly know which plots and/or subplots you were referring to when you said to try to wrap those up before dealing with Ben's stuff, but I can say that at least the stuff with Audrey should conclude (at least as far as hybrid stuff is concerned) by the end of Mal's trial... Also, I wasn't intending to dive in deep with Ben's family in this first fic. I was only going to allude to it and then get into it for their following school year, but then we had this gap in the story (and as Mal's boyfriend her jail/trial time is going to affect him) so I figured we might as well do some stuff with Ben while we wait for the two weeks to conclude. Yeah. I know. If you were cinemasins, then you would totally hate me right now. Sorry. I don't like large gaps. I'm filling them in. However, I have been managing an average of only one chapter per story day, so compromise, I guess? I don't know. Sorry if you're hating this, but because I do hope to have a sequel for this I also can't guarantee that every aspect of each character's plot will be wrapped up in a nice bow. Just as life goes, it's probably not going to be perfect; however, because I do realize there's a ton of stuff going on in here, if you feel like I'm completely forgetting something you think hasn't been wrapped up yet, then you can feel free to remind me. Honestly, with a story this long I'm bound to forget a conversation or two. So, yeah, if you feel like I'm forgetting about something, you can remind me. I'll let you know if I really forget about it or if I do have plans for it already. In any case, I'd rather feel like an idiot rather than leave large holes in the story for me to be annoyed with when I finish and reread it all for the final edit.


	84. The Petition

**The Petition**

 **(Day 51: Monday Noon)**

Aziz takes a spoon full of brown rice, "No offense to Chad, but we really are terrible without you."

"What about Jay?" Ben questions.

"Yeah," William laughs. "He's great, if the players actually pass him the ball and he trusts us enough not to hog it to himself."

Aziz remarks, "Seriously. You can come back any time."

Ben takes a sip of milk, "I'm sorry, but I simply have too much on my plate right now."

"Yeah," Aziz eyes the meat unsurely. "Is all of that really necessary?"

"I'm a carnivore," Ben half jokes. "It's great that your family promotes vegetarianism, but not everyone can be satisfied by a bowl of steamed vegetables."

"I'm not sure about that," he retorts. "A lot of vegetables are high in fiber, and in general all anyone needs to feel full is fiber."

Ben partly smiles as he narrows his eyes at him, "Stop talking like a rabbit."

"I'm not talking like a rabbit," Aziz slowly denies.

Ben turns to the others, "Am I the only one who thinks he's talking like a rabbit?"

"Uh, yeah," Brendan smiles, "because rabbits don't talk."

"So. Just me, then." Ben's smile widens as he shakes his head, "Great."

"Ben," Doug worriedly says from behind him, before Ben turns around. "There's something you're going to want to see."

"Can't it wait?"

"No," Doug insists. "You're going to want to see this."

"See what?" Ben frustratedly questions.

"Over there," Doug points to the other end of the cafeteria.

"What?"

"Would you just stand up already?" he urges, and with a sigh Ben does, a few others following behind in interest.

"What is it?" Ben questions, but then his mouth drops at the large print. _Make hybrids known_. He steps closer and whispers the description, "Are you tired of feeling helpless and weak? Are you sick of being deceived? Sign this petition to make hybrids known by marking them with a necklace badge to identify them in school hallways and classrooms. By signing this petition we also encourage the administration to suspend any hybrids that refuse to wear their ID badges and to expel any repeating offenders of this act. Humans have a right to a stress-free school environment. Make our school safe again, and sign this petition." Ben sees the typed name on the first line and shakes his head, "This is ridiculous. Some hybrids don't even know they're hybrids. They could be expelled simply for not being told they were."

"It gets worse," Doug softly warns before turning a couple pages. "These names aren't just made up jokes. These are all real people who really want this petition to pass."

Ben takes the petition off of the clipboard, "No. I'm not letting this happen."

"You can't just throw it away," Brendan interrupts, before Ben turns towards him. "She has a right to petition. You're king. You can't do this."

Ben widens his eyes as he takes a step forward, "When I became king I promised to have justice and mercy." He scrunches the papers in his hand, as he holds them up, "This is nothing but a cruel idea that would result in the discrimination of a quarter of the country."

"What?" he asks in shock.

"That's the statistic. A quarter of the country's general population are hybrids."

"Wait. That can't be right," William debates. "If it were, then at least one of us would have to be a hybrid ourselves."

When Ben silences with a frown Aziz quickly responds, "Not necessarily." and then they look at him. "There's demographics. Not all hybrids would be evenly distributed throughout the country."

"Plus," Brendan reminds Ben, "the petition is only for the school."

Ben furrows his eyebrows, "And you think that if it passes here, then it won't pass elsewhere?" He doesn't respond, and then Ben waves the papers in his face. "Hasn't history taught you anything? It starts out small like this, but things always escalate."

"Ben," Aziz turns his attention to him. "Aren't you taking this just a little personally?" Ben glares at him. "You know, with your girlfriend and everything?"

"They're my citizens," Ben loudly responds. "Of course, I'm going to take it personally." He looks back in front of him, "Get out of my way."

Brendan shakes his head, "No."

"Why?" Ben firmly responds.

"You're mad," William answers. "If we let you go now, you could do something stupid."

Ben lets out a long breath through his nose, but his expression doesn't change. He grits his teeth, "Move or I will move you myself."

When William snickers Ben presses on their shoulders, making a gap large enough for him to escape through. He hears Doug call after him, but he doesn't listen. After a quick glance over the cafeteria, he strides down the hallway. Then he hears it: her voice. He turns and looks up, seeing the bathroom sign and standing for a full minute, before he scans up and down the mostly empty hallway and then enters inside. The girl taps Audrey's shoulder, before Audrey turns and her mouth cracks open. She angers, "What are you doing in here?"

He takes a step towards her, the petition high in the air, "You tell me." before he tosses it into the sink next to her. "What the hell is this?"

Audrey gives him a look, "It's a petition to make the school safer."

"It's a petition to ruin people's lives," he counters before taking another step forward. "You'd better stop it or—"

"Or what?" Audrey loudly interrupts.

All Ben can do is glare at her, before the other girl comments, "I'm going to find Fairy Godmother." and then heads out of the bathroom.

"You can't just mark these people like animals for slaughter," Ben rejects.

"You're being dramatic," Audrey takes a step back, but then he takes another step towards her. "We deserve to know when our safety is at risk."

"Hybrids deserve not to have a target on their backs," Ben counters. "They deserve to walk through these halls without being bullied."

Audrey takes a calming breath, "Ben. There's a zero tolerance policy in place for that."

"Then why are you doing this?" he yells.

"Because," Audrey sternly responds, "hybrids don't follow rules." and then Ben quiets. "They need extra incentive to reject their true natures."

It takes Ben a moment to comment, "You're not going to be able to convert them into humans."

Audrey looks down for a second, "I know that." before looking into his eyes. "But when they're in public they should at least act human."

He looks away, but it only results in him seeing their reflections in the mirror, "Everyone is going to hate them." He looks back at her, "You're going to turn good people into monsters, make humans distrust their friends and family."

"If they were to be trusted in the first place," Audrey calmly responds, "then they would have told them about being a hybrid in the first place."

"And jeopardize their safety and reputation?" Ben angers. "Humans don't exactly have the best history with them. Of course they're going to be reluctant to tell them."

"Trust works both ways," Audrey simply says. "If hybrids can't trust us, then why should we have any reason to trust them?"

"They're people," Ben insists. "You can't do this to them."

"I'm sorry," Audrey calmly responds, "but I've already made up my mind."

Ben takes deep, short breaths as he watches Audrey walk past him, before he turns around and announces, "I'm one."

Audrey halts in her stance before spinning back around, "What?"

He sees her disbelief, as though she's sure she heard him wrong. He takes another breath, frowning, "My hospital papers document me as a hybrid."

She grins, "Uh, no." before she tensely laughs and walks towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I dated you. I would know if you were."

Ben's expression doesn't change, "No. You wouldn't." and then she slowly lets go in unsureness. "Hybrids can appear very human. They're just people, which also means that their behavior wouldn't be much different from humans either." He slightly shakes his head, "And it doesn't matter if I've shown any signs of being one or not, because I'm still documented as one. If you let this petition go through, then you would be condemning me to the same fate as well." She stays silent for a moment, before he urges, "Please, Audrey. I can't have my country hate me. If our time together meant anything at all to you, then you won't do this to me."

She softly responds, "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can do that."

Ben lets out a stressed breath before grinning and gritting his teeth, "Come on." and then Audrey takes a couple steps back.

He furrows his eyebrows at her, "You're not honestly afraid of me, are you? Just because of what some stupid piece of paper says?" She stays silent, and when he takes a step forward she takes a step back. "I'm the same guy you've always known. Nothing's changed. You have to know that."

"I need time to think," she quietly bypasses.

He glares at her, "You can't do this. What am I supposed to do if this passes? Just walk around with a tag around my neck? Have everyone hate me?"

She shrugs, "Turn it into a publicity stunt. Say you're just an ally of the hybrid community."

"Audrey!" She freezes. "I'm not being a target for bigotry. No one is going to believe me if I tell them that, not with what they already conspire about my parents." She stays silent. "And it's not just going to be me. There's bound to be other hybrids at this school, and if you do this you will be hurting them all."

"They hurt me first," she yells.

"One." Ben puts up a finger, "One hybrid hurt you, the only one you knew of at the time. That doesn't give you grounds to go after the entire population." She quiets, insecurely holding onto her arm as she keeps her firm stance. "Most of them have done nothing wrong. They're just people. Like me." He gestures, "Like you." and he watches as she eyes her arm, before he lets it fall back to his side. "You would have the administration force the hybrids to out themselves and become a target for discrimination." He puts his hands up close to his chest, hands balled into fists with the forefingers and thumbs squeezing tightly together, as he sternly says, "They deserve to come out when they're ready. Not when they're told to. Not when it may not be safe for them to do so."

Audrey firmly replies, "I told you. I need time to think."

"There isn't any time," Ben yells, before he takes a step forward. "Your stupid petition already has fifty signatures. And that's only been half a day."

"Ben." His mouth drops, as he looks over Audrey's head and sees Fairy Godmother frowning at him. "Come with me, please." Ben glares back down at Audrey. "Now!"

When Audrey moves back towards one of the stalls Ben turns his head, eyeing her for a moment, before he looks back at the headmistress and steps forward. "We were just talking."

She looks at him in surprise, "Invading the girls' bathroom to yell at her. That's talking?"

"Yes."

The headmistress steps forward with a look mixed of concern and disbelief, "You were staring her down like some kind of prey."

"Well, obviously she's not," Ben evenly responds.

"Well, obviously," Fairy Godmother responds in return, "we will be discussing this further in my office." He keeps his eyes narrowed through his silence. "Now, follow me or else I'll just have to bippity boppity boo you all the way back to your castle with a note of suspension for your parents."

"You don't have your wand," he catches her bluff.

"No, but I do have a phone," she counters. "So, do you still want to play games with me or are you going to follow me to my office?"

He stands there for a moment, "Waiting."

She shakes her head at him, "What's gotten into you?"

"I don't know." He partly smirks, "Why don't you take a couple hundred guesses. At least a few of them ought to be right."

"Will do," she replies before stepping out of the bathroom. "Coming?" He follows her out. "For your sake, I hope you have a mighty good excuse. Because, you're going to need one."

* * *

\- I'm really starting to regret not having character profiles for this fanfiction. I swear, it's like the more scenes I write William and Brendan into the more alike they get each time. Now I know why and how so many movies have generic secondary characters or sidekicks. But then again, as a rule I list fears, secrets, and insecurities for each character I do a profile for, which I would imagine would only further increase the length and complexity of this fic... so, maybe it's a good thing I didn't do character profiles?

\- **Note to future self** : when you get back here for the final edit and read me, remember to start including anxious behaviors in character profiles (neck rubbing, nail clicking, taking watch off only to put it back on and then off again). I swear, you are just so inconsistent with the characters' anxious behaviors, to the point where it seems like every single character is displaying/reacting to their anxiety in the exact same ways! Don't feel too bad for the exclamations there. You just need to remember how important this is so that you don't mess up so horribly in the future. Or would it be the future's future, because you're future me and I am referencing your future? Wow. Inception. Remember that movie? I can't remember if it was horrible or good. We need to watch it again... You should watch it for me. I'm too busy right now.

\- **Back to Audience** : so, there's something I forgot to ask you a little while ago. The guard that's in charge of watching Mal's jail cell block, what do you imagine he looks like? I know I haven't put in a description for him yet. Should I, or should I just leave it to the imagination? I know there's going to be at least one more scene that shows Mal in jail, but if it turns out to be her last scene in jail then maybe it's too late to give the guard a description? Let me know. Also, this chapter had a page count of five and a half. The chapter after this is only three pages, and if I remember correctly the most amount of pages I've had in this fic was nine? It probably won't change how long a chapter is unless I have a point that would be equally suited by a break or by moving onto the next chapter, but I'd still like to know whether you prefer the shorter three page chapters or if you like the longer ones that typically includes breaks instead. It's probably a good thing to know for the future. Personally, I'm starting to like the longer chapters, but sometimes shorter ones are more suitable, I think. There's no reason to add length to the chapter just for the sake of adding length. That's not even good filler. That's very bad filler.


	85. Trigger

**Trigger**

 **(Day 51: Monday Afternoon)**

"This is very unlike you," the headmistress comments as they sit in her office. "What's going on with you?" Ben glances down for a second but doesn't speak. "Okay, then. An easier question: why were you harassing Audrey in the girls' bathroom?"

"I wasn't harassing her," Ben denies.

"Do you like it when reporters invade your personal space and yell at you?" she seriously questions. He makes an indicating noise. "What were you attempting to talk to her about?"

He shifts in the chair, "Have you even seen that petition yet?"

Fairy Godmother folds her hands in front of her, "Yes. I have."

"She wants to tag hybrids like animals," Ben informs anyway. "And the school is actually listening to her. It's utterly insane." The headmistress doesn't speak. "Can she actually do this?"

"Technically speaking," Fairy Godmother responds, "if enough students back her petition, then the staff would have no choice but to look at it. And she is using the grounds that not having hybrids marked as such causes anxiety in the halls and distraction in the classroom, which unfortunately helps her case."

"So, it could pass," Ben quickly responds.

"If enough students feel like they're not safe here, then I need to address it."

"Hybrids can't control what they are," he nearly yells. "They didn't choose to be this way. What if she had signed a petition to discriminate against people with magic? Would you still be willing to let this pass?" He doesn't let her answer. "Your daughter was able to use your wand. She wasn't very good at it, but she still has magic. If Audrey had felt threatened by fairies instead, then it would be your daughter being targeted instead."

"I'm not letting anything happen," the headmistress sternly responds. "I simply have no choice. The students have a right to free speech, and if they have concerns then I need to address them. I'm sorry to say, but my hands are tied. I can't do anything about this." Ben silences. "If there are enough hybrids at this school and if they want a safe classroom to work in, then I would be willing to provide that."

"That's not the point," Ben argues. "The point is that people shouldn't be punished for some genetic trait they have no control over. These people deserve to be treated fairly."

"And I agree with you," Fairy Godmother comments. "But like I said before, I can't stop her from doing her petition." Ben shakes his head before he stands to leave, but then the headmistress yells, "Sit down." He looks at her, before she sternly continues, "We're in no way finished here. Now. Please. Take a seat." Ben sits back down. "You're king. You can't just run off whenever you feel like it."

Ben crosses his arms, "Maybe, but action needs to be taken. If you won't do anything, then—"

"Then what?" she warns, and he takes a big breath before silencing. "You're in enough trouble the way it is. I recommend you not to get yourself into any more." He glances around the room. "Now. I really don't want to give you a punishment on top of everything else you're going through." He looks at her. "But I have to do something."

He slightly shakes his head, "What, then?"

"Given the circumstances," she slowly answers, "I think a week of sessions with the school counselor would be relevant."

Ben straightens up, "No. I can't do that."

"You can," she nods at him. "And you will."

"And if I don't?" Ben counters.

"Then it will be two days of suspension for each day you miss." He breathes a laugh. "I can make it out-of-school suspension, if you wish." Ben's mouth gapes in horror. "That's what I thought. Now. It's going to be seven one-hour sessions. I know you're busy, so I will let you choose the times, but I expect them all to be completed within the next two weeks." He merely nods. "Also. I will have to inform your parents of your behavior."

"My mom," Ben quickly says.

"What?" the headmistress questions.

Ben looks down for a second, "Call my mom."

Fairy Godmother unsurely comments, "I can call your mom first if you'd like, but—"

"No," Ben insists. "You can't call my dad. He doesn't like to get bad news, and you can't tell him about the therapy either. He likes his privacy."

"Ben," she tries to reassure. "It's your privacy. Not his."

"It doesn't matter." He widens his eyes, "I'm still a part of his family, and I'm royal. He's just as concerned about my privacy as he is about his." Fairy Godmother looks down but doesn't speak. "He can't know about any of this. Not now, and not from you. Not like this."

She looks back up at him, "Okay. I will only call your mother, and if she doesn't answer I'll just have to leave a message explaining the situation and ask for her to call me back."

Ben lets out a breath of relief, "Thank you."

It takes her a moment to question, "Ben. Do you mind me asking, what happens when your father gets bad news?"

"Yes. I do mind," he answers, but she just continues to observe him. He looks down, "It's nothing. Really." before he clasps his hands and his thumbs circle the inside of his palms. "It's just… like a trigger, I guess." He looks back up at her, "It's more likely for him to start to feel unwell when he gets bad news. That's all."

"That's all," Fairy Godmother softly repeats in the same manner. Ben keeps still, but his thumbs still make those circles. "How often does he feel unwell?"

"When there's no triggers?" Ben questions. He eyes the desk for a moment, "Sometimes it can go a full month without anything happening." He frowns as he looks back up at her, "It's been happening more often since I've become king, though… It's almost like I've become a trigger." He feels the water intrude his eyes; however, they stay calm, and Fairy Godmother continues to listen. "I'm… I think I'm afraid to even have any contact with him anymore, afraid that maybe I will cause him to feel unwell if he sees me or… even just to call over the phone."

It's quiet before Fairy Godmother comments, "Ben. You have to know that whatever is going on with your father, it has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"If I were patient like my mother," he quietly counters, "then it wouldn't even be an issue." She doesn't speak. "May I leave now?"

She nods, "When you go to set up your first appointment go into the counseling office and tell them why you're there. By the time you do so I should have a counselor picked out for you. When you've completed your therapy come see me again, just to talk and confirm that it's done you some good." He stays quiet, merely turning around to leave. "Hey, Ben." He looks back around. "Take care of yourself."

He whispers, "Yeah. You too." before he heads out of the room.

* * *

\- So, yeah. Ben is going to be having some therapy. I know at least one of you is going to enjoy that. I mean, you only mention how all of these characters need therapy about every other comment. Lol. Seriously, I don't know if it will do him any good or not, whether he will respond and be open to it or not, but we'll just have to see. Hopefully, by the end it will do him at least a little good. Now, as of this chapter, there is only seven days until Mal's trial starts. I think we might just skip past Tuesday for the next chapter, so if we do that then there's actually only five days left? I'm thinking there's going to be one chapter that involves Ben's first therapy appointment, then the second one will have something to do with seeing Audrey on TV, and then the third would be Mal's last scene in the jail cell. Then there'd probably be two more chapters of her before the trial. Then, finally, the trial. Yay... the trial being at least three days. Probably will be more... I keep putting in quotation marks, as if I'm just writing dialogue right now. It's weird, and it's been happening. It hasn't just been during this post. Does anyone think I've been writing a little too much?

\- **Edit (07/23/2018)** : changed "councilor" to "counselor"... I guess the easiest way to remember the difference is that a counselor is selling you ideas or talk time, but when you didn't even know the word was spelled different for someone who's a part of a council— damn. No. forget it. I'll look up all the times Ben mentions council meeting later. If I spelled it as "counsel", then I really don't want to know right now... but I'll check it anyway. Okay. Good. It looks like I had enough sense to know that council is spelled that way, but seriously. This could have been very inconvenient.


	86. The Counselor

**The Counselor**

 **(Day 53: Wednesday Afternoon)**

"Good afternoon, Ben." She smiles, "You don't mind if I drop the title, do you? As part of the process, it's usually better not to be so formal so that trust can be built easier."

Ben shuts the door, "Actually, at school I do prefer the title to be dropped." before he goes to sit down. "However, it's not going to make me trust you any easier."

"Yes," she nods. "Fairy Godmother warned me that you may not be an easy talker, but I assure you that nothing you say will leave this room."

Ben grins, "Great." before he takes two pieces of parchment out of his blue bag and places the first onto the table. "Then you won't mind signing this."

The strawberry blond haired therapist looks over it unsurely, "What is this?" as she touches the edge of the strong paper.

"After my mother heard about my unfortunate punishment she contacted the lawyer," Ben explains. "He drew up this little contract for you to sign."

"A contract?"

He nods down towards it, "Basically, it says that if you report anything I say to anyone, including the media, the authorities, and your family, then it will be considered treason."

She's shocked into silence, before her mouth gapes, "Treason."

"You would be banished from the country," Ben explains.

It takes her a moment to respond, "I understand that you need privacy, but there are guidelines I have to follow. I mean, for instance, if you were to tell me that someone was planning on hurting someone else, then I would legally have to report it."

"Yes. I was informed of that," Ben simply responds, before he sets the second document onto the table. "Which is why I drafted this." She caresses the wax seal with her thumb. "Yes. It's official. This document gives you permission to overlook those pesky guidelines when it comes to the things I tell you, which should hopefully make things appear less muddled for you so that you can know where your true allegiance lies." She simply looks up at him. "Your objective is to get me to confide in you, yes?"

"Yes," she unsurely states.

"Good," Ben smiles. "Then sign this, and there shouldn't be any issues."

The counselor glances from each document to Ben, "If I sign this, am I doing it because you want these conversations to stay private or am I doing it because you expect to divulge something you normally wouldn't?"

"It's merely a precaution," Ben evenly responds. "And, unfortunately, if you don't sign it, I have instructions to treat this as though it were a live interview on national television."

"Not to question you or anything, but are you sure there won't be any consequences if I do sign this?"

Ben taps his thumbs on the table, "Let's say, worst case scenario." He waits for her to nod in understanding. "Let us say that I end up telling you that someone I know has been ranting about assassinating a family member of theirs to inherit their kingdom's throne instead. If that guy— or girl— were to go through with it, you would not have your license taken away due to not following the guidelines that would have told you to report it."

"What if the police were to somehow figure out that I had knowledge of it?" she questions. "What if they try to interrogate me for information?"

"Well, for starters," Ben comments, "the police can only hold you for twenty-four hours if they have no evidence that you committed a crime, and if they bring up the idea of you somehow being an accomplice to the crime, then all you would have to do is show them these documents." He shrugs, "If they still want to hold you accountable, then I guess I will just have to pardon you myself publically so that the entire country can know you're innocent." It's quiet for a minute, before Ben comments, "If you feel like it's too risky, you don't have to sign it."

She puts the documents aside, "Let me see what it's like without signing it first."

Ben smiles, "Alright. Where would you like to start?"

She takes a post-it note off of the filing cabinet, "The headmistress gave me a list of topics to start with: school, work, your parents, your girlfriend…" She looks up at him, "Is there anything you would like to talk about?"

He chuckles, "You're the interviewer. Why don't you choose?"

It takes her a second to look back up from the note, "She has something in quotations here. Condition?" Ben frowns. "Would you like to talk about that?"

He clasps his hands together, "That's not something an interviewer would know about." She waits for him to continue, before he tensely explains, "Which means we can't discuss it."

"Okay," the brown eyed therapist accepts. "What about work? You just became king about a month ago. Would you like to talk about that?"

Ben slightly nods, "It's been busy, but I can handle it."

"Was it hard transitioning to the king's position?" she wonders.

Ben glances down, "No. My father had me observing council meetings and looking over documents with him prior to me receiving the crown. I was as prepared as I could have been."

"You're using the past tense," she notices.

Ben tenses a smile, "What I mean is that I was fully prepared to take the crown, so the transition into the king's position has been one I can handle." She nods, but she waits for him to say more. "Do you have any more questions?"

The therapist inwardly sighs before moving onto the next subject, "Your girlfriend. It must be tough on you for her to be going through all of this. How do you feel about it?"

It takes Ben a minute to answer, "I have been asked a lot of questions by a lot of different people on the matter, and what I can say is that I know she and I will make it through this. Together. She's innocent, and that's all that matters."

She lets out a breath, "Ben." almost in hopelessness. "For at least one of these subjects, can't you just tell me how you feel about it?"

He eyes her for a second, "I did."

"No," she softly responds. "You told me what happened. You didn't tell me how you actually feel about it." He stays silent. "You've been bypassing my questions. You haven't been answering them."

"I have been," Ben denies. "You just don't like my answers, because they're objective and politically correct. They're answers I would tell to anyone, but you want more."

"I'm supposed to be helping you work through your problems and feelings," the therapist informs. "But you keep answering as if there aren't any problems, as though you have no thoughts or feelings of your own on the subject."

"Maybe that's for the best," Ben counters.

She slightly shakes her head, "Would you have been straight forward with me, even if I did sign the paper?"

He evenly replies, "Unless you do, I guess we will never know."

The counselor lets out a long, loud breath, before she slides the contract over and signs it. She turns it around to let him see as she looks at him, "Talk to me. You're king, and your girlfriend is being put on trial by your ex. I know you must be feeling something."

"Assuming I am," Ben calmly answers. "How is telling you going to change anything?"

"It won't," she acknowledges, "but it's better than keeping your thought and feeling trapped inside of you. For some people, talking through things can give them a new view on the subject or an answer to a question they didn't even know they had." He stays quiet. "You deserve to be able to talk to someone."

Ben eyes the table for a moment, "Talking gets people into trouble."

"I signed the contract," she tries to reassure. "Talking to me is just as safe now as if you were to only talk to yourself."

He observes her for a minute. She's desperate to get something out of him, "I'm not some damsel to be saved."

"I know that," she answers. "But everyone needs help sometimes. While you're being forced to come here, you might as well get something out of it."

"It is quite the waste of time," he acknowledges. "How much time do we have left?"

She looks over at the hanging clock, "Twenty minutes." He nods. "So. Tell me. How do you really feel about your girlfriend's situation?"

"You want the truth?" Ben questions, and when she doesn't answer he continues with agitation. "C'est foutu. She barely even touched Audrey, and now she's being put on trial for sexual assault?" He laughs at the absurdity, "C'est vraiment des conneries."

It takes a moment for the therapist to respond, "I'm sorry, but I don't speak French."

"Good." Ben attempts a calming breath, "You really didn't need to."

She nods, "Alright. So… Your girlfriend is innocent. Do you still worry?"

"Of course, I'm worried," he answers. "I mean, she didn't do anything wrong, but at the same time had I not shown up, then she could have." He shakes his head, "She's not some sexual predator, but she was attempting to get heat… and that can be an intimate act sometimes." He's quiet for a second. "The jury may not see a difference. All they may end up seeing is a hurt victim that feels as though it is personal… like when someone pulls the head covering off of a woman. It might not seem like a big deal to us, but depending on the culture or the religion, hair can be seen as a very private thing; therefore, as a judge would have to take that into account in a situation like that, the judge may also have to take into account Audrey's feeling on the matter, how she interpreted the event, because she didn't know what Mal's intention was at the time."

The counselor nods, and when Ben doesn't continue she questions, "You said that you can pardon people. If you're really worried that Mal may be found guilty, then why don't you just pardon her?"

Ben looks down for a moment, "I'm not allowed to." before he explains to her. "Back when the country was trying to diminish the monarchy's power a law was put in place to prevent the king from pardoning any family members or people who they have dated." He gestures, "It's a good rule. I understand why it's there. It's just… inconvenient, I suppose." She nods. "So, there's nothing I really can do, nothing but sit, sit and watch—" He furrows his eyebrows, "Not even watch. I'm not allowed to see her… I have to wait until Monday's trial."

"How do you feel about the timing of the trial?" the therapist questions. "Do you feel like she's going to be ready for it or do you wish you had more time?"

It takes him a minute to think, "Honestly, I just want to get it over with. Could we use more time? Sure… But Mal probably wouldn't last that long." He looks at her for a moment, "Evie, Mal's friend… She told me that it seems like Mal just keeps getting colder every time she sees her." He eyes the glossy, wooden table. _It's fake wood. Pulp_. "I don't know how much longer she can stay in there for, and that's just before the trial. She's still going to be put back in jail after each trial day concludes." He lets out a sad breath, "And the witness list is long. There's no telling how many days it will take for the trial to end… It could be another week. I just really hope it isn't two."

The timer goes off, and the counselor comments, "I'm afraid that's all the time we have today. When would you like to schedule your next appointment?"

Ben slowly shakes his head, "I don't know. Tomorrow, same time?"

She nods, "I think that will work." He slowly gets up from his chair. "Have a nice afternoon, Ben."

When he glances at her he sees her small smile, but he finds himself unable to make his own, "Have a nice day." before opening the door and exiting the room.

* * *

\- I got Trump vibes when I wrote Ben saying, "I've been asked a lot of questions by a lot of different people on the matter"... not entirely sure if it was Trump actually. It seems almost too smart for him. But whoever said it, politicians will be politicians.

\- Just to be clear, I never took a French class. I just spent some time looking up phrases, and those two are what I found. If there are longer conversations that are in French they will be written in English... whether it be indicated or not. Since Belle and Adam probably had French as their first language, it would make sense that that would be what's spoken around the household; therefore, there's a possibility that there's been a French conversation already and I was just too shortsighted to notice it (and therefore not indicate it).

\- Sooo, I just found out I spelled counselor wrong... I have to re-upload the previous chapter now. Thank goodness I didn't use that word before now, because then I'd have to probably re-upload chapters that aren't even in my doc manager anymore.


	87. Assistant

**Assistant**

 **(Day 54: Thursday Night)**

"So," Carlos starts as tries to keep balance on the gaming rig. "Any more thoughts on… you know."

Jay leans back on the floor, "Still researching."

"Still," Carlos complains. "It's been like two weeks."

He laughs at Carlos's near fall, "Keep your eyes on the road." but then Carlos gives him another annoyed look and falls off of the platform." He turns onto his back his rubs his arm, before he sees Jay hover over him.

"You okay?"

"Fine," Carlos irritably replies, before he starts to stand up. "Just fine."

"Good," Jay smiles before stretching out his arm, but then there's a knock and Carlos's attention strays to the door instead. He starts to walk towards it, and when Jay says, "Controller." Carlos briefly turns back to toss it to him.

When he faces the door and opens it he offers a half surprised, half confused expression, "Chad?" He glances back at Jay, who has stopped to observe.

"Hey." Carlos notices him leaning on the doorpost. "So, I was thinking—"

"You're not going to ask me out, are you?" Carlos interrupts.

"What?"

"Your arm," he explains, before he looks towards it.

"Oh." Chad laughs it off, "Habit." before he brings the arm down to his side.

Carlos looks at him in suspicion as he slowly comments, "Okay."

"You're going to do my homework," Chad smiles.

Carlos furrows his eyebrows at him, mouth wide open, "What makes you think I'd ever do that?"

"You need the money, right?" Chad assumes. "I'll give you five dollars for every night I copy off of you, plus an extra twenty for every report or project you do for me."

"Copy?" Carlos questions. "What about the classes we don't even share."

"Oh," Chad exclaims. "Let me explain. You do my homework, and then I copy it so that it's in my handwriting. The reports you will type."

"And where is this supposed to happen?" Carlos skeptically comments. "The library?"

"No. Of course, not," he laughs. "It's happening in my room."

"Your room. As in… your dorm?" Carlos turns back to Jay in question, but he just seems to be amused by all of it.

"No. The room I have at my castle two hours away," Chad sarcastically answers. "Yes, the dorm I have here. And people call me an idiot."

Carlos looks at him in annoyance, "What if I don't want your stupid money?"

Chad nods as he looks up, "Well, you could reject the offer." before he smirks at him. "But then I'd have to post that wonderful photo of you in that beautiful, mini dress."

He mumbles, "I was wondering why no one mentioned it yet."

"Sooo, you can either take the money or you can let everyone see you wearing a dress."

Carlos glares at him, "I hate you."

He looks at him unsurely, "Isn't that some kind of compliment where you come from?"

"Shut up." Chad merely smiles. "I don't understand. Don't you have like a ton of girls doing your homework for you?"

"Yeah," Chad slowly responds. "You see, I went out the other night, and now my girlfriend thinks I cheated on her."

"What were you doing the other night?" Carlos questions.

"That's private."

Carlos laughs, "And you wonder why your girlfriend thinks you're cheating."

"Point is," he interrupts, "I'm no longer allowed to have girls enter my room, and therefore I have an opening available. Would you like to take it, or would you rather have everyone know that you model dresses in your free time?"

"It was one time," Carlos objects.

Chad makes a face, "They won't know that." Carlos groans. "Come on. You would have a chance to earn a ton of money, plus you'd be spending time with me. What's there not to like?"

"You," he emphasizes. "There's you."

Chad smiles, "I get it. You don't like me. But I bet that if you got to know me a little better, then I could change your mind."

Carlos gives him a look, "You're the substantiation of a sleazy guy."

Chad slowly gestures before quickly commenting, "I don't know what that means." but his smile remains. "What I do know is that I need my homework done, and you're doing it."

"Why me?"

"Because, I can bribe you. Because, I can blackmail you. Because…" He trails off, "You're smart and… I don't know. I just have a good feeling about you. You'll be great."

Carlos shakes his head in disbelief, "I don't even turn in my own homework half of the time. I forget. Like easily. Seriously, I've been asked if I do it on purpose just because I'm trying to look cool or whatever."

Chad lays a hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry. We can fix that." and when Carlos looks down at the hand it slides off. "So, what do you say? Will you be my new assistant?"

"That's what you call it?" he raises an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

His smiles widens, "Well, yeah. I had to call it something. I couldn't just post onto my account that Rachael was doing my history homework. The teachers would have seen it."

"Because assistant is just so much better," Carlos counters, before he shakes his head. "It sounds like the start to a bad porno."

"Well," Chad looks up. "Now that you mention it…" He laughs at Carlos's expression, "Stop being so serious. I'm only kidding. Don't worry. It's just homework. You'll be great."

"When?" he questions.

"Starting tomorrow night," Chad grins. "After dinner. Don't be late. We need to get it done before curfew."

"Yeah. See you, then," Carlos comments before shutting the door on him. "Jerk." Jay can't help but laugh. "What? What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing." Jay teases, "Just that you're Chad's new assistant."

"Because he has a girlfriend now," Carlos counters. "Which means that he's not going to cheat on her, which means it really is just homework." He continues to smile, clearly not buying it. "Look. Chad's a prince. He can't be even remotely gay. That would be like against the natural laws of nature or whatever."

"Technically, Evie is a princess," Jay reasons, "and we all know she has something going on with Mal."

"Okay, but Chad has a girlfriend," Carlos defenses. "How do you explain that?"

"No one is a hundred percent straight," Jay justifies. "And given the way he was acting, I would say he's at least a little curious about you."

He lets out a stressed breath, "Okay. Let's say Chad is curious." Carlos lifts his left hand up, "He has a girlfriend, a girlfriend who he wants to be with so much that he's willing not to have any other girls be his 'assistant'. There's no way he's going to cheat on her."

"Mal has a boyfriend," Jay reminds him, "and you don't see her slowing things down with Evie at all, do you?"

"She's a heat sucker." Carlos debates, "It's different."

"Okay," Jay accepts. "But what if he is curious? What would you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"If he asked you to do some things with him, then would you?" he inquires.

"He's blackmailing me," Carlos points out. "Whether I would and whether I'd like to are probably two completely different answers."

"So, you're not curious about him at all?" Jay wonders.

Carlos slowly smiles, "No. I'm not." as he makes his way towards Jay, wrapping his arms around his neck. "I prefer guys with a darker complexion."

Jay unsurely asks, "Is that a reference to my skin color?"

"No, you idiot," he laughs. "It's a reference to your hair and eye colors." His thumb moves over his cheek, as he uses a hand to get Jay's hair out of his face, "Although, your skin tone doesn't hurt either."

He frowns, "I don't know whether to be offended or not."

Carlos slightly shakes his head, "Just take the compliment." before he kisses him.

Jay sighs, "We can't do this."

"Come on." Carlos complains. "It's been like forever."

"If I can wait, then you can too." He gives him a look, before Jay sternly responds, "I'm not hurting you, not until I've done the research."

Carlos lets go of him, "And how much longer is that going to take?" Jay doesn't respond. "Come on. You can't be just a little rough?"

"No," he firmly answers.

Carlos slightly shakes his head, "I don't get." before he raises his voice. "Why are you punishing me like this? I didn't do anything wrong."

"Is that what you really think I'm doing?" Jay softly questions. "Punishing you?" Carlos doesn't speak, his eyes becoming glossy with tears. "I'm not trying to hurt you. That's exactly what I'm trying not to do. I don't want to see you in any pain. I'm not trying to punish you."

Carlos gulps, "It was fine before, before you knew. And then you stopped being rough, and then now you don't want to do anything at all? What did I do? Why are you doing this?"

"The stuff we were doing wasn't enough for you," Jay tries to explain.

"So, you took that away too? I wanted more. Not less." Jays lets out a breath but otherwise stays silent. "And I understood that you wanted to understand this more." Carlos shakes his head, "But are you even trying to research? I feel like you're stalling on purpose."

"I'm not," Jay tries to reassure. "I really just can't find much of anything. All I keep getting are these definitions, vague ideas, and what seem to be stereotyped causes by people who clearly don't know anyone who's gone through it." Carlos stays quiet, so Jay takes a step forward, "Trust me. I'm not stalling. I just… I feel like if we were to do anything, then I wouldn't understand it enough to keep you safe or happy."

Carlos whispers, "I'd be happy just to know that you're open to it and trying."

Jay shakes his head, "In order for me to be comfortable with this, I need to know that I won't actually be hurting you, that it's safe and not something you don't actually want."

He sadly laughs, "What? You still think I'm doing this to hurt myself?"

It takes a minute for Jay to answer, "No. But maybe it's something you've just grown used to. Maybe you can learn not to want it."

Carlos gives him a look, "Are you even listening to yourself?" but Jay doesn't respond. "And no. It's not something I want to learn to ignore or eventually not want. I just want it."

Jay is quiet for a moment, "I'm not going to do anything until I know more, but if you really feel like the usual stuff is better than nothing, then we can do that. You just have to promise that you won't guilt me about not doing it when we are doing the normal stuff."

Carlos lets out a breath, "Fine. That's fine." He stresses, "For now." and Jay smiles at him. He smiles back, "And actually, now would be great." before he walks up and kisses him.

* * *

\- Can you guys tell when I run out of room on a page and don't want to go onto the next? I feel like you can.

\- So, Chad's not really going to become a "main" character or anything, but I'm honestly curious here: Do you think he's stupid or smart just based on the scenes he has shown up in? I'm not sure myself. Is both an answer? Oh, and, by the way... a loyal follower of this story had a chat with me (thank you, again), and it's been brought to my attention that the way I'm writing this isn't in the most normal format. I should have probably warned you all before, it's not going to be very structured. For the most part the flow is just going to be organic, to the point where sometimes even I don't know how the characters will get from point A to point B. So, you don't need to be overly worried about every single thing that gets brought up, because some (or a lot) of it may be saved for later. Until then it's just information to add to the character... honestly, it's going to be a slow ride. I'm doing each character's storyline at the same time, not one at a time, so there will be times when there appears to be a lot going on; however, it also means it won't be like those TV shows that display a mental disorder for a single episode, "cure" it, and then move on just as fast as it developed like some dummkopf. I like the slow development of things and then watching how the characters react to it all... You can disagree with me. You can prefer action, but since I like to do more psychological things I'm not sure how much action this story will get, regardless of how much may seem to be happening at once. Seriously, if you don't like psychology or character development and working on relationships, then I have absolutely no idea how you've made it this far. That being said, let's get back to Ben.


	88. Both of You

**Both of You (Day 55: Friday Afternoon)**

"I wonder," the therapist comments, "does your busy schedule prevent you from taking care of yourself at all?"

"What do you mean?" Ben asks.

"Well," she explains, "when people get really busy they can forget to do simpler things like eating, for instance, or they may force themselves to stay awake longer to get tasks done. Sometimes, even, the anxiety of so much to do will prevent them from sleeping." She looks at him in question, "Has anything like that happened to you since your schedule got busier?"

When Ben's phone dings he glances at it, "Not really." and there it is. _Another voicemail_.

"Do you need to get that?"

Ben shakes his head, "If it were someone I know, then they would know not to leave a voicemail. They would just send a text if I couldn't be reached, especially if it were important."

When the phone rings again the counselor questions, "It sounds important. Are you sure it isn't something work related?"

"It's not," Ben answers as he cancels the call. "Those calls get sent to the landline in my office. I usually check them when I visit my parents, but most of the time they're just citizen complaints anyway." Another voicemail is left. "Sometimes they get ahold of my personal cell number too." He turns it to silent and smiles back up at her, "You were saying?"

"Is keeping such a busy schedule hard on you at all?"

It takes him a moment to answer, "I wouldn't say hard. I mean, I've made sacrifices." He lifts his thumbs over his clasped hands, "But it's fine. I'm used to it." She nods. "To be honest, the only thing that's really changed since I became king is how people treat me."

"Could you explain further?" she questions. "How do people treat you differently?"

"Well," Ben begins. "Some people treat me with more respect, kind of awkward at times, while others have put me to a higher standard… Some people don't talk to me anymore at all, particularly those who only barely know me. It's like they're afraid to inconvenience me."

"It must be hard," she speculates. "Do you ever feel like people hold you to too high of a standard? Do you ever feel like they expect too much?"

A glimpse of his father comes to mind, "Yes. Yes, I do." but then he notices the notification pop up on his phone. "It's the lawyer." He opens it and shakes his head, before he types back a response; however, the message he gets back is no more of help.

"What is it?"

Ben looks up at her, quiet for a second, "Mal's in the hospital. He doesn't know why."

"If you need to go," the therapist offers, "then we can just make the next appointment a little longer."

He lets out a breath, "That would be great." before he stands and exits the room.

* * *

Ben hurries over to the desk, "Which room is Mal in?"

She searches the system, "I'm sorry King Ben, but it looks like she's not allowed visitors until her lawyer arrives."

"She's my girlfriend," Ben sternly states, "and her lawyer is my lawyer. Just tell me which room she's in."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"Now," he growls.

"Wow," the blond woman calmly responds. "That's a nice set of vocal cords you have, aren't they?"

Ben cowers, his hands moving back so that the tips of his fingers hang off of the height of the white marble desk, "I just really need to see her. I need to know she's okay."

She glances back at the screen, "Well, it looks like here that she's stabilized."

"Stabilized?" Ben softly questions, and she gives him a look. "Please. Tell me. What happened to her?"

She slowly shakes her head, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but the report says that she came in with a vertical laceration on both her left and right wrists." She looks back up at him in hesitation, "It's listed as a possible suicide attempt."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "When can I see her?"

"As soon as the lawyer arrives." She explains, "But because you are not her primary contact and because she was being held in custody, I cannot permit you to see her until then."

Ben sighs, "She's never been to a hospital before." before he nods back to the computer. "Who's taking care of her? Please tell me it's Dr. Robert."

She shakes her head, "It's not." Ben runs a hand through his hair. "It shouldn't be an issue now that she's been stabilized, but if you're worried about any allergies she may have, then I might be able to page the nurse for you."

"I'm not sure," Ben realizes, and then he shuts his eyes. "I need to make a call." He turns around and then walks back to the waiting area, taking a seat in one of the plush chairs, before he pulls out his phone and dials the number. He hears her voice, "Hey. Evie… It's about Mal."

* * *

When Ben sees Evie he stands from his chair. She worriedly asks, "How is she?"

Ben shakes his head, "I haven't been able to see her yet, but the lawyer just got here. So, hopefully, we'll be allowed to see her soon." Evie nods. "Is there anything they should know about her, medically speaking?"

"Not really," Evie comments. "I mean, she can't really drink a lot of water or she'll get sick, but that's about it."

"Seriously? Water?"

Evie tensely smiles, "I know, right? If only we could all survive on three tablespoons of that a day." He doesn't speak. "One small glass won't kill her, but she tends to avoid it anyway."

Ben shakes his head, "Well, hopefully that won't be an issue. What I'm more worried about is any transfusions they may give her. If the blood isn't compatible to hers, then her body may reject it and there could be serious complications."

"Complications?" Evie questions.

"Namely death," Ben worries.

"Oh." Evie fidgets with her necklace, "Only that."

Ben glances from her hands to down the hall, "Okay. I've had enough." He turns back to Evie. "I got her room number. Follow me."

Evie nods and then follows him down the halls, until they're met with an open door and see Mal lying in the hospital bed. The lawyer comments, "I'm going to step out for a minute." before he stands from the chair. "Get some coffee. You have twenty minutes alone."

Ben nods, before he takes one of the chairs and brings it over next to Mal. He sits down, quietly observing her, before she speaks, "I know what they told you, but it wasn't like that. I promise it wasn't."

Ben takes her hand, and when he feels how cold it is he moves his other hand towards it too, "What happened?"

She tiredly comments, "I was cold. I asked to see you, but he refused." before she partly smiles. Ben glances down at the electric blanket. "I thought I'd threaten them into letting you see me. I said that if he didn't let me see you, then I'd kill myself." She lightly laughs, "But he thought I was bluffing, even after I explained how it seems like my nails always grow to a point." Ben opens her hand and notices how the nails are shorter in width towards the end, only part of the reason seeming to stem from the curved edges. "They also grow really fast."

"So, what?" Ben questions. "You tried to kill yourself just because you couldn't see me?"

"I was going to die anyway," Mal points out. "I just figured it might as well be in a place that I could potentially be saved." She painfully grins, "But that guard was so shocked. I had to hypnotize him in order to even get here."

"I hope you don't get in trouble for that," Ben comments.

"I know," Mal responds, "but I was cold and they just kept insisting on giving me a blanket." She shakes her head as she lets out a breath, "And seriously." before she looks up at him and moves one of her hands down to his wrist. "Now that I finally have you, can I just please have you."

When Ben looks up at Evie she attempts a smile, "I will give you two a minute." before she walks away and steps out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

He looks back down at Mal, placing a hand to her neck with a thumb up towards her cheek, "You're like ice. How did you ever survive on that island?"

Mal breaths a laugh, "Well, fire helps. That, and ovens. And stoves."

"Tell me," he moves in and kisses her, "on a scale from ice to fire, how hot am I?"

She smiles, "Somewhere between a heat lamp and a stove." before they kiss again. "You can get hotter than that, but I'm guessing that isn't good." He feels her hand clutch the back of his neck, as the bandage wrapped around her wrist scrapes against his skin. "Is it?"

"Is what?" he questions.

"Are— Are you supposed to be that hot?" She places her other hand on his shoulder. "Because you're a hybrid." Ben stops kissing her, and it's quiet for a moment. "Your mother said—"

"My mother insists I'm not one," he interrupts, "and no. It's not good for me to be that hot." She doesn't respond. "May we discuss this later?"

She nods, "Yeah. Alright." before he starts to kiss her again; however, when one of his hands moves to the hip under her shirt he looks over towards it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ben frowns as he looks back up to her. "I just don't remember you being this thin."

"Oh," Mal frowns in return before shrugging. "What the jail serves, my mom would call it bird food." She glances down, "I didn't really see the point."

Ben grins, "When this is all over I'll get you a nice, juicy steak."

"You seem so sure."

"Well, yeah," Ben evenly expresses. "You didn't even get the chance to kiss her. The most they could probably get you with is attempted assault. Or, well…"

"Well?" Mal eyes him in worry.

Ben sits up and uses a hand to gesture, "Well." but then the hand closes and is brought down. "The thing is Audrey is a girl."

"So," Mal prompts.

Ben wets his lips, "How do I put this?" before he tries to explain. "Because you targeted someone of the same sex, what you attempted to do could be seen as perverse."

"Perverse?"

"Yes. Well, with how— you know. Some crimes are considered worse than others. Like how a pedophile would have a harder sentence than someone who raped someone of age."

"Pedophile?" Mal repeats. "You mean that thing where people rape kids?" Ben lets out a breath but doesn't speak. "You're comparing me kissing a girl to that?"

"I only meant," Ben tries to justify, "that a crime can be considered worse based on context, and the lawyer brought to my attention that because what you almost did is a homosexual act that it could make the attempted crime appear to be worse due to perversion."

Mal slides up in her seating to look him face to face, "I still don't think you're hearing what you're saying. You're saying that you think that kissing someone of the same sex is perverse." She gives him a look, "I mean, really?"

"It's not about what I think," Ben bypasses. "It's about what the jury will think. Audrey is an innocent princess— of Christian morality, no less— and you are a corrupt, Godless creature who only just barely passes for being a hybrid." He places a hand up to his head, "I mean, your entire heritage is filled with nothing but wild beasts and magic users. Do you know how bad that is alone, and then on top of that you enacted in this immoral behavior." He sees her about to speak, "I get it. I really do. On the Isle of the Lost you didn't have options, and who are you going to trust more than your best friend?" He shakes his head, "But this looks bad. I cannot stress enough just how bad this is going to look to the judge."

It takes Mal a minute to respond, "Are gay relationships a crime here or something?" Ben doesn't speak. "Because, I don't know about here, but on the Isle people were allowed to express their likes and dislikes openly with only minimal backlash. Experimentation was expected, actually. It was only when you got serious with someone that you got any flack for it."

"I don't know what flack means," Ben slowly comments, "but what I can say is that I didn't even know it was a crime. A lot of people probably don't. It's clearly just one of those laws that aren't enforced… but since you committed a crime, they can add this to it."

Mal places a hand to her head, "God. Evie."

"Evie's not the one who's going to be on trial," Ben tries to reason. "You are. You don't need to be worried about her. You should be more concerned about yourself." He takes her hand, and then she looks at him. "Everything is going to be fine. You have to believe that, and I will be here for you right through 'til the end."

She lets out a breath, "You said that I only barely pass for a hybrid. Does that mean that they're still going to see me as some sort of monster?" Ben can only frown, and then she shakes her head. "Maybe you should get out while you still can. This can't be good for your crown."

"No," he sternly responds. "I've already made my choice. And my choice, it's you." He attempts to smile, "We're going to get through this, and when it's finished I can explain in an interview that I knew you were innocent all along. There's no risk to my crown here."

Mal continues to frown, "Do you really think I'm innocent?"

"You were trying to get heat," Ben evenly answers. "Were you a little vengeful at the time? I don't know. Maybe. But even if you were, it's not like you were trying to hurt her."

She looks down, silent for a moment, "And if my intention had been to take all of her heat and kill her…" She looks back up at him.

He glances down, "You didn't." before he meets her eyes. "You're a good person. I have faith in you, and I have faith that we will get through this. All we need is each other."

"And a lawyer," Mal reminds him before laughing. "You're so cheesy."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Yeah. I know. I really am." and then there's a knock at the door. They look over to find Evie peeking in, before she opens it further and his mother is revealed.

She steps inside, "Mal. How are you doing?"

"Still a little cold," she honestly answers, "but fine."

Belle eyes her wrists for a second, "I didn't think they allowed sharp objects in jail."

"She used her nails," Ben lets her know.

She takes a step closer before eyeing Mal's long, pointed nails, "We'll have to cut those."

"And then what?" Mal objects. "Pull my teeth out?" Belle quietly observes her. "I had no intention of dying. I promise you that. Just let me cut my own nails when I'm ready to." She breathes, "Which will not be until I'm safe at home in my own room."

"You mean your dorm at the school?" Ben clarifies.

"Yeah. Of course," Mal furrows her eyebrows. "What did you think I was talking about?"

It takes a moment for Ben to answer, "I wasn't sure. It's just when people say home, it normally means a permanent residence."

"Yeah, well," Mal counters, "for us home and shelter is the same thing."

"It's true," Evie confirms. "When nowhere feels safe your home is only just a shelter."

After a minute of quiet Belle comments, "Mal. I'd like to help you with your paperwork, if you don't mind."

"Paperwork?" Mal questions as she glances from Belle to Ben.

"The hospital paperwork," Ben explains. "If you ever end up here again, it's better to have a file on you." He sees her questioning look, "It will list things like allergies, medical problems, your species, emergency contact, and primary physician."

"I think we should have Dr. Robert be your physician," his mother tells Mal.

"Doctor Robert?" Mal questions.

"You're a hybrid," she explains. "You're going to need someone competent to treat you."

Ben looks at his mother, "So, because she's a hybrid she needs my doctor?"

"Yes," Belle simply says, before she continues on with focus. "He's very good at asking questions before anyone gets killed. You will need him." Mal looks from Belle to Ben and then back again. "Also. Because Ben is too young, I would like to be listed as your emergency contact in the meantime."

"She's really focused right now," Evie notices.

"Yes." Ben replies, "That can happen." before he addresses his mother. "Mom. Mal's fine. There's no reason to panic."

"I'm not panicking," she denies. "I would simply just like to be prepared. I mean, there's no way she's going to get through that trial if something bad happens to her, right?"

"Mom," Ben says again, before he gives up and smiles. "Get the paperwork."

When she leaves Mal comments, "Ugh. I'm exhausted. Do we really need to do the paper stuff right now?"

"She's stressed," Ben explains. "This will make her feel better." He kisses her hand, "But don't worry. When this is all said and done you will have all the rest you could need."

"Yeah," Evie butts in. "Because when this trial is over, you will be back in our dorm where no one can bug you."

"Evie," Mal warns her. "Be nice."

Ben watches Evie cross her arms and then sighs, "I'm just going to go check on my mother." before he stands from his chair and walks towards the door; however, when he steps next to Evie he whispers, "Three minutes." before leaving the room.

Evie uncrosses her arms and gazes, as she watches him leave, before Mal irritably comments, "I need Ben too, you know. You can't fight over me."

She frowns, "I know."

"I swear," Mal compares, "it's like I got a new pet and you're jealous that you're not getting all of the attention anymore, even though I'm probably still giving you about the same amount I always have."

"I know," Evie says again. "I'm sorry. I just… He's been nice and everything, very considerate," she responds as she makes her way to the chair and sits. "But, I still can't help but feel like it really is some sort of competition."

Mal let's out a breath, "Eves. Trust me. There's no competition here. I need both of you."

* * *

\- Yeah. I really don't like that Evie got all... however you put it and how that single comment about no one bugging Mal in their dorm seems to just crumble (in my interpretation) the nice friendship she was forming with Ben, but when I was writing it I felt like she would say that. So, I guess this is happening. *shakes head* Hopefully Mal can knock some sense into them if they start to tear each other apart... I don't know. It's surprising how circumstances can change how people behave towards one another. It's completely possible that Ben focuses on the trial and just sweeps this under the rug, yet it's also completely possible that he gets a little territorial of Mal too. After all, didn't he not question Evie being a heat source in the first place simply because he was more worried about Mal?... What do you think? Any predictions? There's no right or wrong answers here. Just speculations.


	89. Pray Prey

**Pray Prey**

 **(Day 56: Saturday Morning)**

"Where were you on January thirty-first on the night of the incident?" the layer questions.

"I was at the school in my dorm, running a bath," Mal answers "And after I found out the water was too cold I went searching for why it was."

"So, you weren't at the event that Audrey Lee was holding that night?"

"I didn't even know there was an event," Mal looks down as she responds. "But I eventually went when I was told Audrey was the one that made the water cold."

"You're going to lose them if you keep making your explanations so long," the lawyer informs. "It's going to be a long day for everyone, and you don't want them to think you're making excuses either. You want to get your side of the story across to them using as few words as possible. Also, try not to look down. The ruling judge may not see your expression, but the panel will and you don't want them to think that you're lying or doubtful."

"So, I'm just supposed to stare at the person who's questioning me?" Mal inconceivably asks.

"Or at their ear or the space over their shoulder," he tries to help. "Just try not to look down, and whatever you do don't look up and to the left. I've noticed it's something you do when you're trying to remember something, but I'm going to suggest for you to practice not doing that for your own sake. Studies show that most people do that when they lie."

"Great," Mal sarcastically answers. "How am I supposed to get through this if I'm not even allowed to remember anything?"

"So, it's true." Mal looks towards the door at the sound of Audrey's voice, and she watches as she takes a few steps closer. "You really did try to kill yourself."

Mal rolls her eyes at Audrey's apparent concern, "Don't flatter yourself. I did this to save my life, not to take it."

"But it's not the first time, is it?" she questions as she takes a few more steps. "You did it after you found out what you did to me?"

"Yeah," Mal slowly lets out before partly grinning. "Just too bad it didn't work, 'cause now I have to suffer the sight of your obnoxious, bland, pink attire."

"You're being defensive," she notes.

"Of course, I'm being defensive," Mal furrows her eyebrows. "Some prissy princess walks into my room acting all sympathetic, as though she's not the reason why I'm even here in the first place."

"I'm not the one that slit your wrists."

"No." Mal counters, "You're just the one that accused of me sexual assault, when all I was attempting to do was get heat."

"Through a kiss," Audrey angrily defends, tears suddenly intruding her eyes. "You had me retrained through whatever magic you were using—"

"It wasn't magic," Mal mumbles.

"And not only that," Audrey lifts a hand up, "but you not only tried to kiss me with a clear lack of permission, but you were also going to force me into a sinful act. I could have been sent to Hell for what you almost made me do."

"I thought sodomy was the sin," Mal remembers, "not girls kissing each other."

"Same thing," she insists. "Marriage is between a man and woman, not two women."

Mal offers a look, "Sorry to burst your bubble my pretty, but I'm not looking to marry you— or anyone, in fact. I don't need God's permission to be with someone. I'm just sorry that you're so insecure that you do."

"God created us. We owe our lives to Him. He has a paradise for us to go to, and all we need to do to get there is to follow his rules. Why would you risk that for the sake of kissing girls? And not marrying anyone? What, do you want to sentence both you and Ben to Hell?"

Mal huffs, "Explain to me, how would I be sentencing Ben to your Hell?"

"Premarital sex is a sin," Audrey informs. "Surely you knew that."

Mal's quiet for a second, "No. I didn't."

"The union between a man and a woman is sacred," she preaches. "It's God's will for men and women to find happiness with each other in a way that's good and pure. God—"

"God. Do you ever shut up?" Mal infuriates. "It's because of you that I was held in jail, that I nearly died of cold. Where is that in your little book of rules?" She doesn't speak, and Mal lets out a breath before mumbling, "I swear, if you were anyone else I'd be taking your heat right now without a second thought."

After Audrey observes their close proximity the lawyer lets her know, "She's not being serious. The doctor was just here five minutes ago." before she looks towards him. "She didn't do anything to him." He looks at Mal, "Now. As your lawyer, I highly recommend you to end this conversation. She could be trying to gather information to discredit you. She may even be recording this entire conversation."

When Mal and Audrey's eyes meet Mal glows hers, "Are you recording this? Tell me the truth."

"No," Audrey answers.

"Are you trying to discredit me?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?" Mal questions.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." The glow in Mal's eyes fade, and then Audrey places a hand to her head. "You didn't have to spell me. You could have just asked."

"It's not a spell," Mal tries to inform again. "It's a dragon's sight to see heat and hypnotize prey to do what we want." She slightly rolls her eyes, "It's a hunting thing, I guess."

"I'm not your prey," Audrey uneasily replies in sternness.

"Then stop acting like it," Mal coaxes. "Stop treating me like a predator and drop this case. Stop making yourself out as some kind of victim."

"I am a victim," Audrey points to herself. "I'm not just making this up for attention. We've got you on camera, and you're going to pay for what you did to me."

"Tell me," Mal comments in slight boredom, "do you try to be this dramatic or does it just come naturally to you?" Audrey places a hand on her hip with raised eyebrows, which Mal rolls her eyes at before sitting up more, "Look. I've been through some crap too, but you don't see me making a big deal out of it, do you."

"And you think that somehow makes you stronger?" Audrey asks in seriousness. "If you were wronged and you didn't get help, that's your fault. It was your choice."

"Get out," Mal glares at her.

"You know I'm right," Audrey comments with a near smile.

Mal glows her eyes again and yells, "Get out." before Audrey drops her crossed arms and immediately turns around to exist the room.

"I wouldn't have advised that," the lawyer warns.

Mal turns to him in stress, "Shut up." before she winces at her actions, slouches over with a hand to her head, breathing she lets out a sullen breath. "I didn't mean that." She looks back up at him, "It's just that, you know. Apparently it's my fault that I was… that I was wronged, and just because I didn't tell the entire world about it that somehow makes me stupid and weak." He doesn't speak, only offering an unsure expression. "Right." Mal shakes her head before glowing her eyes again, "Speak if you want to."

He opens his mouth before responding, "You're going to have to get that under control."

Mal is quiet for a moment, glancing down at the white sheets, "I don't know if I can. It's tied to my emotions and instinct. The amount of control I do have over it is remarkable." She looks back up at him, "Maybe it's also health related. When I was on the Isle my hypnotism was almost nonexistent. Here my eyes can glow for more than fifteen seconds and my commands actually last more than two seconds."

"Are you saying that this ability of yours fully developed only a month ago?" Mal frowns as she nods, and it's a minute before the layers comments. "Just try your best." Mal doesn't speak. "We were going over the questions you may be asked on the stand."

Mal nods in remembrance, "Yes."

"So," he continues on, "what did you do once you found the victim?"

Mal looks at the wall behind him, as the select images flash through her mind, "I accused her of stealing the hot water and touched her arms to take heat from her."

"Is it not also true that you used magic to restrain her and keep her quiet?" Mal lets out a long breath. "Magic is not a very well-known science anymore. You will be given the chance to clear up the fact it's not when I question the origin of your abilities and need for direct heat sources, but until then you should assume that they won't know the difference between a wand, inherited magical ability, and unique characters that are directly related to a species' biology."

"I know," Mal softly responds, taking a minute to answer. "Yes. I restrained her."

He nods, "And then you attempted to kiss her."

"Yes," Mal merely comments.

After a moment of quiet the lawyer informs, "That would be a good time to explain it's easier to obtain heat that way."

"So that they can write me off as some floozy who would do anything with anyone?" Mal slowly questions.

"No," the lawyer evenly answers. "That would be counterproductive." Mal looks away from him. "We're just trying to open dialogue for what your real intentions were."

She stares out at the open door, watching someone push a cart of vials and various materials past, before she inquires, "Why are you still here?" She turns back to him, "You took a pointless case."

"I'm the king's family lawyer," he answers. "This isn't just about money. It's about loyalty. I haven't given up on your case, because I know how important it is to them. You're very important to them."

Mal lies back down and mumbles, "Yeah, and I'm going to disappoint them all." before she turns onto her side. "Why couldn't it have been someone else? Someone else to have the dragon blood, the fairy magic, and somehow doop the prince to fall hopelessly in love without even apparently trying." She shuts her eyes, "He's going to lose everything because of me."

The lawyer tries to comfort her, "This isn't an impossible case. It's going to be hard, but Ben isn't going to lose anything. Not even you. Not if you try."

She whispers, "He doesn't even know me." before she gulps. "He's going to hate me. He's going to hate havin' risked all of this for me."

"If he can forgive you for attempting an attack on a fellow royal— a previous girlfriend, no less— then surely there's nothing you can tell him that will make him feel any differently about you."

"There is," she quietly responds. "I could tell by how he talked about it… and the thing is that wasn't even the thing I was worried about." Mal puts an arm around the puffy pillow, and after a long minute she says, "I'm tired. Can you please leave?"

He stands from the chair, "Yeah. I think we've gone over enough today."

"And shut the blinds?"

It takes him a moment to comment, "I'm not doing that."

"Why?" she softly questions.

"Studies show that sunlight decreases depression. You may not have intended to kill yourself, but you're clearly still feeling hopeless and I'm not going to stop something that could be helping you."

"But it's not helping." Mal turns to him, "It's bright, hurting my eyes, and making fun of me, acting like everything is all happy and fine when it isn't. It's just making things worse." She sees his hesitant unsureness. "If you don't do it, I'll just have to get up and do it myself."

After another minute he negotiates, "I will close the blinds if you cut your nails short."

Mal rolls her eyes, "Fine. Whatever."

He nods, "I will find a pair of clippers for you." before he goes and stands outside the door, questioning a nurse as she passes by.

* * *

\- Yeah. Because I've watched Once Upon a Time, it's completely possible that I've made references to characters who may not even turn out to be Disney characters (like Mr. Hyde or the Wicked Witch of the West)... I mean, they probably did show up in some cartoon on Disney Channel at some point, but that's not where I'm getting it from... Unless it turns out that Disney paired up with the creators of Once Upon a Time, in which case I will feel very stupid.

\- Also, apparently it's been over a week since my last update. So, sorry. Not really too sure what happened... Maybe I got stuck in future storylines again or maybe the next couple chapters were just that hard to write through. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's stupid. I can't just write and post six chapters a week and then suddenly drop off the face of the Earth... or this website. Given the subject matter I cover, you all could have thought I died. Well. At least it wasn't a month, right? That would have been absolutely horrible... Now watch me subconsciously do just that. Let's hope not.


	90. Core Values

**Core Values**

 **(Day 56: Saturday Afternoon)**

"What's that? Beef jerky?"

Mal watches Ben enter the room, "Yeah. Jay smuggled it in for me." as Ben makes his way around the bed and sits in the chair next to her.

He attempts to smile, "I wish I'd thought of that."

"Don't worry about it," Mal tries to smile back. "You're promising me a steak dinner."

"Which requires you to win this trial." Mal looks down, pushing the strips of plastic back over the stick of meat. "The lawyer said you seemed a little doubtful about things."

"Ben," she begins.

He takes her hand, and then she looks up at him. "When you're at trial Monday you can't have any doubts. You have to believe that you have a life worth fighting for— people and relationships worth fighting for. You're not going to win if you don't."

She glances down before commenting, "I know."

"So, tell me." She looks back up at him, noticing his sad, hazel-green eyes. "What exactly is it that you're doubting here? What… Why do you doubt us? Do you somehow feel unworthy? Because, if that's the case, then you need to know you're perfect just as you are."

"You hardly even know me," Mal softly counters.

"And I could say the same for you," Ben easily responds, "but that's the point, isn't it? That I have things I want to tell you and that eventually you will want to confide in me too, but that's never going to happen if we can't even trust in each other."

It takes a minute for Mal to respond, "I know Evie already tried to explain this to you, but I need you to understand." She gauges his even expression. "We weren't best friends when the whole heat thing started. That came afterwards, after I started to trust her." He doesn't say anything. "I could have chosen some loser of a guy, but I didn't. I chose the shy girl. She wasn't there out of convenience. School was in session. I could have had anyone."

Ben opens his mouth before hesitantly questioning, "Do you find her attractive?"

"I don't not find her attractive." He slowly nods, letting go of her hand to take his own. "Do you hate me?"

He quickly looks back at her, "No. Why would I hate you?"

"Because it's a sin," she answers as she pictures Audrey, but then Ben gives her a look. "I don't know why, but even you think it's wrong. I know you do. I could tell by the way you were acting before, by the way you were talking about it."

He lets out a breath, "If you're talking about yesterday, then you really need to know I was mostly just iterating what I thought the judge would think. I don't care about your heritage or that you've kissed girls before. I care about you." He makes a noise as he shuts his eyes for a second, "And okay. I may have found it a little… unsettling, but you were just acting on your feelings." He slightly nods, "And some people might find that kind of personality as dangerous, but I don't. Not really, anyway… You know, it's just that since you've acted on those feelings that now I know it's not just guys I need to be concerned with. It's everyone."

Mal half laughs, "I'm not attracted to everyone."

"No. Of course, not," he accepts.

"And age is also a thing," she reminds him.

He smiles at the realization, "Yes. It is." before he shakes his head. "It's just… you've made me the happiest I've ever been." He takes her hand again, "I don't want to lose you. To anyone or anything."

She looks down for a second, "Ben. I'm not perfect."

It takes him a minute to answer, "Neither am I, but we've been good for each other." He pauses before continuing unsurely, "Haven't we?"

"Yes," Mal confirms. "We've been very good for each other. It's just—" She shakes her head, "I don't know. This all still just feels like a dream." before observing him intently. "Even with all of the bad stuff that's happened… I keep waiting for it to end, or get worse, or break. I keep thinking that nothing can be this good, and what if I'm wrong?" It takes her a moment to add on, "Even about you?"

"You think I might turn on you?" Ben worries.

"I know it sounds ridiculous." Mal looks down and squeezes his hand, "You've done nothing wrong." before she faces his concerned expression. "It's not about you… It's me. And I know that that's just some lame thing people say when they just want an excuse to leave someone, but what I really need is a way to be convinced that it's going to be okay. Because, I really do like you, and I want to be able to stay with you."

"That ring I gave you," Ben looks down and touches where it should have been. "It's not like those engagement rings guys give girls to show ownership. When I gave it to you to wear, I was pledging myself to you. I would do anything for you, and I'd never betray you. You have to know that. I love you, and when you get that ring back you will be reminded of that every day."

"That's sweet," Mal frowns in response, "but it gives me that same feeling I felt when you first gave me that ring. On that ride to the coronation, just how oblivious you were to everything." She sadly looks at him, "How can you make such a grand gesture, when you're not even sure this thing we have will last."

"Because, I am sure." Mal falls silent. "I wouldn't have given you an item with my family's crest on it if I wasn't." He brings his hand to her cheek, "You are the light that shines my world. I'd be lost without you."

Mal shakes her head, "I'm going to feel stupid if this is just residue from that love potion." and his hand falls from her face.

"It's not," he reassures. "I've felt that way since the moment I saw you. When I saw you there was just this connection, something I felt that I never had with anyone else before. You—" He wets his lips, as he tries to find the words, "You make me feel whole."

Mal lets out a breath, "That doesn't make any sense."

"It does if I have something in common with you that I don't have with anyone else," he counters, before she offers a questioning look. "To my knowledge, I've never met another hybrid before. No one land based anyway…"

"I thought you said your mother insists that you're not actually a hybrid," Mal remembers. "That you were only documented as one."

"She's probably in denial," Ben negates. "And if she somehow actually believes that, then I know something she doesn't."

"What?" Mal prompts.

He scratches the back of his head, "Well. You already heard this little rumor, but I can growl. Apparently."

"Growl?" she smiles.

"Yeah. A couple friends of mine were trying to tell me, but I didn't really believe them. Not until I, uh, kind of growled at the receptionist to let me see you when you were first brought here."

Mal laughs, "You growled at the desk person?" but he can only answer with a look. "That's great. How did she react?"

"Pretty calm, actually," Ben notes. "Just complemented me on my vocal cords, as though her king was just some singer and not a beast hybrid."

"So, you really are a hybrid."

"Well, you know what they say," Ben responds in stress. "If it looks like a beast and roars like a beast, then it's a beast."

"Duck," Mal corrects. "The expression is duck, and you don't look like a beast." She watches as he grows quiet, "Is that something you worry about, that the actual curse was passed down to you and not just some weird side effects?"

"I wasn't able to growl before," Ben answers, "but then again I haven't gotten as upset or angry as much as I have been lately." He eyes her, "You know, if you had told me about what you were earlier… I probably would have believed you when you told me that you'd be there for me if the beast thing ever became an issue."

Mal lets out a long breath, "I know. I shouldn't have left you hanging like that, not when I suspected that you were having some similar problems of your own."

"Then why did you?"

Mal glances down for a moment, "The reason why I didn't tell you is the same reason why I told you that having beast-like qualities wouldn't change anything for you… and that reason is because there is so much more to a person than just their biology."

"So, it's not because you didn't trust me enough?" Ben worries, before she looks back up at him. "I just thought that maybe you were scared or something, like how I was scared back when I admitted to those— Well. Those qualities."

She shakes her head, "It wasn't you, Ben… Or, at least, not just you." It's quiet for a second. "If I had it my way, then no one would have ever known." She laughs, "Which is great, right? Now that Chad outed me to the entire world."

"Sorry about that," Ben begins.

"Don't apologize," Mal interrupts, "especially for someone else. If I didn't know it was meaningless before, then I sure do now." She uses a hand to get a curl out of her face, "I just wish I could have lasted a little longer without anyone knowing about me."

"Why?" he questions. "You're beautiful and powerful, and people already knew you had fairy magic. Why wouldn't you want anyone to know that you were a hybrid too?"

She attempts to smile, "Maybe because not all hybrids are equal?" and she glances down, messing with the plastic of the beef stick, before further explaining. "I'm sure you already understand this with your reluctance to tell anyone what you've been going through." She looks up and notices his eyelids lower in thought. "But things like dragons and beasts aren't compared with things like mermaids or centaurs. They are seen as beautiful and majestic. We—" Mal's smile turns into a pained grin as she laughs, "We would be seen as nothing other than some dangerous monster." Ben looks back up at her. "Which is why I really hope that this beast thing you have won't turn into anything more than it already has. Your life will be a lot easier if you don't have to have everyone know about it."

Ben looks down and clasps his hands, circling his thumbs over his palms, "Audrey knows." before he eyes her again, seeing her somewhat confused expression. "She had this petition to tag hybrids at the school with some necklace. I thought that if I had let her know that anyone can be a hybrid, even those you care about, then she'd let go and stop it."

Mal lets out a breath, "At least tell me she did, that you didn't tell someone this just for them to tell someone else."

Ben lifts his thumbs up, "I don't know." before he shakes his head. "I… I practically ambushed her. I threatened her. Fairy Godmother called it harassment." He lets out a solemn breath, "For all I know, she could hate hybrids even more than she did before."

"When was this?" Mal quietly inquires.

"Earlier this week."

Mal half laughs in relief, "Okay. Good. That means she's not going to tell anyone."

"She probably just doesn't want her friends to know that she dated an animal," Ben mumbles.

Mal gives him a look, "You're not an animal, not any more of one than a human anyway. You're perfectly normal."

"I can roar," Ben counters. "That's not normal. And what if something else happens, like if I get all hairy or something?"

"Yeah," Mal slowly nods. "It's called puberty." She glances over him, "Seriously, do you like not even shave or anything? Your face always looks so bare and smooth."

Ben almost laughs, "Funny thing, actually. Kind of weird, but I only really have to shave once or twice a week."

"Depending on the weather?" Mal jokes.

"It probably has more to do with stress," Ben answers. "But, yeah. Something like that." Mal partly smiles. "Seriously, though," he goes to grab her hand again. "I need to know that you will believe in us enough to want to get through the trial. There's no reason for you to believe that this won't work. Okay? I will be here for you no matter what."

"You can't say that," Mal frowns in seriousness.

"Yes, I can," Ben insists. "There's nothing you could say that would scare me off."

"What if I told you that I've made out with hundreds of people," Mal tests out, and when he doesn't flinch she continues. "I've been to prostitutes." Ben laughs. "What?"

He smiles at her, "I figured as much." before he reaches for her cheek. "You're so cute when you're annoyed."

"So. That's it. You don't care."

Ben drops his hand, "Believe it or not, Auradon has a sex work industry too." before he gestures. "It's probably more up to code than what you have on the island, but we still have it and given your situation I'm really not surprised that you've been to one."

"So, you don't care?" Mal responds again, this time less intensely.

"I don't see why it would be an issue. I mean, unless the workers weren't being properly screened and you contracted some disease." His mouth drops at the realization, "You didn't—"

"Highly unlikely," Mal interrupts. "I've only had sex once, and I don't really do oral. Soo, yeah. Not likely."

"You don't do oral?" Ben slowly questions.

She partly smiles in unsureness, "I mean, if you wanted to try it out eventually, then we could. But you should probably know by now that my saliva…" She purses her lips before explaining, "It has a paralyzing aspect to it. If I were to do something like that, then at some point it would go numb. The person probably wouldn't be able to feel it."

"Yeah. That sounds pretty scary," Ben uneasily comments. "I'd just rather have you bite my head off." He widens his eyes and quickly explains, "The neck. Not the—"

"I got it," Mal reassures. "Don't worry."

Ben lifts his hand up and down from his knee, "Nice one month dating conversation we're having, isn't it?"

Mal offers a look, "If you were from the Isle, you'd have asked for sex already. And not just the oral stuff. You would have been expecting the whole thing."

"Really?"

She slightly nods, "Yeah. You're sixteen. You probably would have had it by now." He doesn't speak, only looking towards the floor. "Hey. Ben." She takes his hand and he looks back up, "I'm glad you're not one of those guys."

"So, my lack of… experience doesn't bother you?" he insecurely questions.

She shakes her head, "Not at all. I like that our relationship is more than just physical."

Ben nearly smiles, "That's good to hear."

"And do me a favor." He watches as she looks him up and down. "Don't turn into one of those guys. I really don't need another one of those in my life."

He slightly shakes his head, "And what kind of guy is that?"

She looks away from him, unable to speak for a minute, before she turns back to him and softly says, "The kind of guy who thinks he can have whatever he wants, just because he wants it. The kind of guy who can twist things to make him the victim of the story and fit his agenda."

Ben looks intently at her, "Was Harry Hook one of those guys?" but then she lets go of his hand, and he watches as her eyes flash bright green before she shuts them. "Mal?"

"Don't say his name," Mal blinks before she gulps. "He's pure evil. You got that?"

"Aren't all villains supposed to be evil?" Ben uneasily questions.

"No," Mal stresses. "Not at all. So called villains, they do things out of revenge. They seek justice for things they feel they've been wronged for. They have a moral code, a line they won't cross." Mal shakes her head, "But Hook." She looks down for a moment. "He's not any of those things. There's nothing more to him than just being the guy that takes whatever he wants whenever he wants it without any thought to the people he destroys. He's exactly what you people think of when you think of a villain— but worse. Way worse." Ben fails to speak, so she continues. "And he's not here. Okay? So, there's no reason why we need to talk about him."

Ben frowns as he eventually says, "Okay." and then Mal looks down, taking a couple breaths. "I would like to know, though…" She looks back up at him. "What did he do to you?"

It takes Mal a minute to respond, "Evie would like to know that too." as she observes him for a moment. "I'm going to give you the same answer I gave her." He waits for her to speak. "Hook isn't rotten to the core. He has no core… And that's all you need to know."

"Rotten to the core?" Ben questions.

"It's a band," Mal explains. "Being rotten to the core is considered a good thing."

"But Hoo—" Ben wets his lips, "He doesn't have a core… as in core values?"

Mal shakes her head, "No. He doesn't."

It takes a moment for Ben to respond, "That doesn't seem like much of an answer."

"It's not," Mal accepts. "But it's the one I'm giving."

* * *

\- Does anyone else remember what happened 54 chapters ago in "The Cure"? Yeah... I almost didn't either. Luckily, I remembered. This could have gotten very contradictory very fast.

\- As far as the actual chapter goes... I'm sure there's a way for Ben and Mal to get around the whole saliva issue. Let's say, you know, if they were some of the select few people who actually use protection for oral. Also, pretty sure lesbians have rubbers too, so if Mal and Evie were to ever get together like that then that also wouldn't be an issue... although, she might have to go back to the Isle to buy those, since Auradon apparently has an unspoken law against gay people and probably wouldn't carry anything like that in their stores... One other thing, it's getting to the point where I'm starting to think that Ben is just so stupid for not catching on to what happened to Mal. But then again, Auradon is supposed to be a paradise with low crime rates, so maybe he's just that innocent and doesn't assume the worst as the worst thing that could have happened to her... Maybe manipulation or forced illegal work, but rape? Nah... Or maybe it has crossed his mind for a split second and he just doesn't want to believe it. Who knows... Call this plot convenience if you want. I'm sure I'm more than guilty of that by this point, since anyone who has finished a full semester of intro to law and into to psychology could probably figure it out just by knowing where she came from and observing her behavior... Especially with all of those required classes everyone took to recognize abuse and all that stuff... Yeah. With everything he was told he should be more than aware of the fact by now... I may just have to turn this into a case of denial... **Poll** : Let me know what you think. Is it plausible that Ben really just doesn't know or does he for sure know by now?


	91. Entertainment

**Entertainment**

 **(Day 57: Sunday Evening)**

When Ben sits down in his office chair he grabs a pen and notepad before glancing at the answering machine. _Two hundred and forty-one_. He sighs and opens the Diet Coke, and he takes a sip of the lime flavor before pressing the button on the machine.

"Ah, yes. I'm filing a complaint. Apparently someone in our government— I'm not going to say names— seems to think that breaking the law is okay. I'm going to suggest that that person either gives up that claim or resigns if they know what's good for them." Ben deletes the message. "King Ben, if you're getting this I'd just like to warn you that the things you've been doing lately aren't doing you any favors. Actually, if you look up your royalty stats you're now down to two stars… Not that that matters. It's just that you have some really good policies and I don't want to see you overthrown. Please. One guy to another, I know you're just trying to defend your girlfriend, but that video is clear proof of her crime. If you really want what's best for your country, you will drop this and focus on what really matters— your people."

Ben shakes his head before writing on the yellow paper, "Drop the case." and then marks down two tallies. _Resign_. He marks one tally next to it, before he continues on with the messages. After seven more of them he tallies six next to 'drop the case', and then he adds the word die on the next available line, placing a single tally next to it. Ben takes a large breath and then a gulp of his drink, before he continues on.

After another fourteen messages he has ten tallies added to the 'drop the case' row, three more to the 'resign' row, and one more added to the 'die' row, before message fifteen starts and he hears Doc's voice, "Yeah. King Ben. We're all a little confused down here. We've gotten two different letters with your royal seal on it saying two completely different things. Now, one is written while the other is typed, so I have a pretty good idea which came from you, but we would still like to hear from you to clear up this confusion. Are we getting a raise or not, or have you made a compromise with His Highness since we got these notices?" Ben hears indistinct murmuring in the background. "Yeah. Also, I'd like to remind you, King Ben, that the mining has gone very well this year, so if we don't get a raise then a bonus would be very appreciated. Uh, I hope you have a good day. Please get back to us at your earliest convenience. Thank you."

Ben furrows his eyebrows and mutters, "What did he do now?" before he looks up at the shut door. He shakes his head and then makes a note on the paper to talk with his father and to call the dwarves. He takes a stressed breath before picking up his drink, but when he does so he finds the can to be empty and has to open up the next one. _Cherry_. He shifts in thought and then opens a couple drawers, before he finds the glass, smiles, wipes the inside clean and then fills up the cup with half of each flavor. _Cherry lime_. He takes a drink of it and then nods in approval. He clears his throat before slowly commenting, "Next message." and then presses the button. His smile widens as he hears the family man, "Oh. You want me dead too? That's great. Just let me mark your complaint here on this sheet, and then I'll get right to it." before he frowns, presses delete, and then moves on to the next one.

"Yes. The crosswalks near the Auradon public middle school seems to be bugging out. It's been like that for about three weeks now. I thought someone else would have reported it by now, but apparently not. Can you get those fixed for us, please? I know you've been… busy. But this is really important. You better drop this nonsense you're doing and get it done." Ben marks a tally in the appropriate row before writing her complaint next to the one from the dwarves.

He deletes the message, but the following twenty aren't any better. Most of them don't even explain themselves. They just tell him to resign or drop dead without reason. _They probably assume I know the reason_. He picks up his drink, "Well. They aren't wrong." before he finishes it off and looks for a new can; however, he can't find one. He shakes his head, slams the glass onto the wood, and then plays the next message only to hear an elderly woman rant. Ben furrows his eyebrows at the answering machine, "I'm sorry, but I don't speak Spanish." before he moves his finger towards the delete button; however, then he hesitates, lets out a long breath, and takes out his phone instead.

After two rings Doug answers, "Hey, Ben."

"Hey. I'm in my office. I've got a message for you to translate."

"Let's hear it."

Ben puts his phone on speaker, moving it towards the machine, before he replays the message. The woman yells and talks very fast, but it still takes a full minute for it to end. He takes the call off silent and places the phone back up to his hear, "You get that?" Doug doesn't speak. "Hello?"

When he does speak it's slow in unsureness, "How many hateful messages have people left you?"

"This week?" Ben glances down at the large amount of tallies, "A fair few." Doug stays silent. "Why? How bad was it?"

"Well. I mean," Doug buys time. "I didn't exactly catch all of the words. But it was something along the lines of your girlfriend being executed and how that in her day you would have been burned at the stake. And that God as a special place of Hell for people like you."

"Yeah," Ben accepts. "Hybrids don't get into Heaven. We're the spawn of Satan."

"I think she's more referring to how you're defending your girlfriend."

"Yeah. I know," Ben evenly responds as he looks down at the paper. "So, would the tally go next to 'go to hell' or next to 'die'? Or both?"

"What?"

Ben places one next to both, "Don't worry. I've got it. Thanks for the help. Really. I couldn't have done it without you." and as he takes the phone from his ear, he can hear Doug urgently tell him to wait. Ben presses the button, and the call ends. He looks over at the answering machine, "Only a hundred and ninety-four messages to go. This is going to be fun." He lifts up the glass again, bringing it to his lips before he finds it empty and rolls his eyes. "Damn it." He slams it back down again, places his elbow on the desk, and runs a hand through his hair, before he looks forward and watches as the door slowly opens.

"Ben?"

He lets his arm fall, "Hi, Mom."

"You're late for dinner."

Ben looks down at his watch and lets out a breath, "Sorry." before he looks back up at her. "I was just trying to get through these messages."

"Well," she nods, "we've been waiting for you. Come and eat."

Ben scratches his forehead as he glances at the answering machine, "I can't. I need to listen to these."

"No, you don't. You need to eat," his mother firmly counters. "And it's family night. You're not skipping out again. We need to know what you've been up to."

"But—"

"But nothing," she interrupts. "Those messages will still be there when we're done. They can wait. We can't."

Ben takes in a deep breath and then slowly releases it through his nose, "Very well." before he stands and walks over to her.

She offers a concerned look, "You know, you scare me sometimes."

"What?" Ben softly questions, taking half of a step back.

"You just have this personality," she explains. "The kind that can run someone into the ground."

It takes Ben a moment to speak, "I don't understand."

His mother attempts to smile, "It's like you need to be perfect at everything, and you want to make everyone happy. Even if it causes damage to yourself."

Ben makes a noise, about to speak, but then he chooses different words, "I think it's more environmental than a personality. I'm sure that if I had less stress in my life, then I would have just turned out as some lazy jock." She gives him a look. "Oh! And I'm out of soda."

Her mouth drops, "Again? Weren't you just given six cases this week?"

Ben makes a face before justifying, "I've been stressed."

She looks over his shoulder and eyes the littered cans on the desk, "It would appear so." before she attempts to smile and guides him away from the office. "Come on. We shouldn't keep your father waiting."

* * *

When they make it into the kitchen Ben's father smiles, "There he is."

"Yes." Ben forces a smile, "Here. I. Am." before he sits down at the table.

"How was your week?"

Ben pours himself some milk, "Eventful." but his father continues to look at him. "I visited Mal in the hospital."

"The hospital?" he questions.

"Basically, she attempted suicide so that she could live. The jail wasn't taking care of her," he hurriedly explains, before he meets his father's eyes.

"I see," he comments as he scoops up some smashed potatoes with his fork.

Ben continues to look at him, "Why do you keep undermining my authority?"

"What?" his mother questions.

Ben turns to her, "He sent a letter to the dwarves, saying that they won't be having the raise I wanted to implement."

She looks at her husband, "Adam. We've talked about this. You need to let him make his own decisions."

"And make his own mistakes?" he frustrates. "This is the country, Belle, not some school project. He can't make any mistakes."

"I seem to remember you making plenty of your own mistakes," she counters.

Ben places a small amount of potatoes on his plate, as he father says, "Exactly. I made mistakes. Because I had no guidance and I was too young to rule, and you know what? Ben is too." Ben places some corn next to the potatoes. "He's too young to rule properly."

"You think so?" she raises her eyebrows at him.

Ben takes a piece of the turkey. "He's too idealistic and naive." He tears the turkey into small bits. "He doesn't think through anything." Ben takes some gravy and pours a little over the potatoes and turkey bits.

"I'm going to have to disagree with you on that last bit." He flattens out the potatoes with his fork and places a couple pieces of corn on top of it. "I think he thinks through things plenty."

Ben grabs his milk, "I think I'm done." and his parents turn towards him as he finishes off the milk. "May I be excused?"

His mother looks over his nearly emptied plate in disbelief, "How could you have finished so fast?"

"It's easy when I'm not the one talking," Ben frowns, and he glances between the two of them before asking again, "May I get back to work? I have a lot of messages to get through."

"Wait," his father holds a hand up. "You think you can rush through dinner and just leave? No. You're not getting out that easy." Ben merely observes him. "Tell us something more. Your friends. Your grades." He gives a concerned look, "How are your grades?"

Ben glances down, "Mostly A's."

"Mostly?" his father gives a look. "I expect you to be learning these things. These are very important classes you're taking."

"They're very important electives," Ben breathes, "but I have to take the requirements too. I'm taking ten classes in a five hour school day. Believe me, I've been trying."

His mother offers her concern, "I thought you finished all of the requirements last year."

"Apparently colleges don't like it when students stop studying a subject for two years," Ben mutters. "They think we will forget everything. So, a science, math, history, and English class is required every year, even if you do have all of the requirements taken care of."

"English is your second language," she reminds him. "You should be taking that."

"I know," Ben acknowledges. "I'm just saying that it's a requirement." He laughs, "So, even though I've technically finished the requirements, all that means now is that I'm getting stuck with a pre-college English literature class."

After a moment of silence his father questions, "Ten classes you said? Those are only four. What other ones are you taking?"

"You saw my report card last semester," Ben comments.

"I want to hear it from you," his father stares at him.

Ben looks down as he counts on his fingers, "Pre-College English Lit, Anatomy and Physiology for science, Atlantic Studies for history, Pre-Calculus for math, and then there's the ones you wanted me to take to prepare for rule: Communications, Intro to Law, and Intro to Sociology."

"That's seven," his mother counts. "What are the other three?"

"We're required to take a secondary language." He looks at his father, "And yes, I'm still sliding by and taking French instead of actually learning anything."

"The other two?" she quickly interrupts.

He turns back to her, "Intro to Psychology and some advanced health class dedicated to learning about drugs. I actually don't remember the name to that one."

"And why are you taking those?" his father firmly questions.

Ben gives him a look, "I just thought they'd be useful. Okay?"

"And that psychology class doesn't count as a science class?" she inquires.

Ben lets out a deep, slow breath as he looks over at her, "Neither do the health classes Chad wants to focus on. I'm not the only one getting screwed here. I assume they don't count, because the teachers don't want to risk us taking those instead of Anatomy or Engineering."

After a long minute his father comments, "I still expect you to do well in these classes. There's no point in having you take them if you're not going to bother learning from them."

"I know." Ben looks at him, "And I'll do better. I've just been distracted by everything."

"Your girlfriend," he assumes.

Ben quiets for a moment, just staring at him, "It's not just her." but when he notices his father shift at the accusation he backtracks. "I've been going through my own things."

"Now would be a good time to tell us about it," his mother prompts.

Ben glances down at the dirtied plate. There's so much he could say, so much he could tell them, but is it really a good idea? _Is any of it even relevant?_ He looks up at his father before staring back down again. _Some things are better left unsaid_. "I'd rather just get back to work, listen to the people's complaints, and maybe— just maybe— solve some problems."

"Honey," his mother starts.

He looks up at her, "Please. There's still over a hundred messages, and school's tomorrow." He slightly shakes his head, "I have homework too."

She hesitates, "Alright."

Ben frowns as he nods, "Thank you." before he stands from the table. "Uh. Do we have anything else to drink?"

"I think you still have some flavored water in the fridge."

He nods, "Thanks." before he strides into the kitchen, takes a case of Propel out of the second fridge, and then sets a plate on top of it before heading back out to the dining area. He places some strips of turkey onto the plate, "Just something to snack on as I listen to the entertainment."

"The people's complaints aren't entertainment," his father stresses. "It's serious."

Ben looks at him for a moment before quietly stating, "Everything is serious. I just can't help but see it all as anything other than entertainment anymore." He huffs a partial laugh, "I could probably be taken hostage right now and see it as nothing more than a mild inconvenience and simply watch as it plays out."

"Honey."

He sees the sad concern in her eyes, "I've got work to attend to." before he nods down and turns to leave.

"He's so careless," Adam comments before taking a sip of his milk.

Belle looks at him, "Careless? Try depressed." She scrunches the cloth napkin in her hands, "Maybe we should let him see someone to talk to."

"No." Adam sits up straighter. "That's a bad idea. You need to stop thinking like that."

"But don't you see him?" she stretches an arm out to where he had exited.

"Look," Adam reasons. "We're his parents. If he needs someone to talk to, he should be coming to us. He shouldn't be trusting some stranger over us. He's our child."

"I understand that," Belle lets out in a soft breath, "but what harm could it do for him to have just one more person to confide in?"

"What harm?" he exasperates. "He could tell her things about himself— or us, even. People don't understand. They never have, and now you're suggesting to have him tell someone every little thing that's going on in his life, every secret that he has? Do you want this family to be torn apart?"

"No," Belle whispers. "Of course, not."

"Then stop suggesting this," he stresses, and he lets out a breath as he shakes his head. "You're usually so smart. How could you come up with a stupid idea like this?"

She's quiet for a second, "I don't know." before she glances down. "I just wanted what was best for Ben." She looks back up at him, "But you're right. The consequences are too great… It was a foolish idea."

"No," Adam shuts his eyes tight for a second. "I didn't mean it like that." They look at each other for a moment, before he continues, "It's great that you want what's best for Ben, but what if he does tell someone something he shouldn't? What if he tells the therapist about his medical condition? The people could find out. He could lose the throne."

"We could have the therapist sign a contract treating any divulging of information as treason. He or she would be legally bound not to say anything."

"Which is great, but you're forgetting something. Ben is a king," Adam emphasizes. "Things get leaked. Even if the therapist signs the contract, some reporter could go in and bug the area her and Ben would be speaking in. And there are just so many things he could say that would ruin us— ruin this family. One conspiracy and he could be taken from us. Do you understand that?"

Belle quietly states, "There's been plenty of conspiracies about us, Adam."

"But none of them involve our son," he stresses. "But if we do this, then there will be. Okay? And I'm not losing my son." He looks into her eyes, "I don't think you want to either."

"The chances of that are very low," she tries to reason. "We have a good lawyer, the castle is in your name, and Ben is king."

"And he's still going to be king, even if he's forced to live in some foster home or is taken in by some other royal family." He shakes his head, "That's not going to change. What will change is our family. It will be broken. And if you think Ben is stressed or depressed now, how do you think he would feel if he didn't have us in his life?" She doesn't speak, only looking at him. "He needs us. You know he does. Anyone else would kill him."

"He's old enough to tell them about his needs himself," Belle comments. "It wouldn't be like when he was younger and just did as he was told. He's his own person now."

"He's still only a child," Adam counters. "No one is going to listen to him. Maybe— just maybe— as a ruler, but as some kid trying to convince his adult caretakers of his needs? No. They wouldn't just let him take that medicine. They would be convinced that we weren't taking care of him and that he doesn't know what's best for himself. They would send him to the hospital, and assuming he's in a different kingdom he wouldn't have his doctor. He would die."

Belle lets out a sad breath, "I know you're right. I just— I hate to see him in so much pain. And the entertainment? If he truly sees the world like that, then he's dissociated himself from it. He needs help."

"Look," Adam reasons, "if Ben needs help, the only help he needs is from you. You're so good with him, and he's going to have an easier time talking with you than some stranger. If you really believe there's something going on with him, then I'm sure you can get through to him."

"You think so?" she skeptically inquires.

"Of course, I do." He places an arm over her shoulders, "You've done a good job raising him. So good in fact that I don't even think we need to worry about him. He's a fine, young man. And the things he's going through, it's not for nothing. It's for experience. Life can be tough sometimes, and he needs to learn that. You can't save him from that reality."

"I'm not trying to save him from that reality," Belle denies. "I'm trying to save him from himself. Like I saved you." He doesn't speak. "And you say you want him to earn experience and not be sheltered from reality, but aren't you sheltering him in your own way by not letting him implement the policies he wants to test out?"

Adam smiles, "You're so smart. Too smart for me." He nods. "Alright. You want me to give Ben a chance at this fantasy of his, then I will. But when the consequences from it come, I don't want you hugging him and telling him he only did what he thought was right."

"Fair enough." She partly smiles, "Thank you."

He nods once, "You're welcome."

* * *

\- I am in no way promoting Diet Coke. Actually, I don't even really like it. It's nice that they even have lime as a flavor when no other dark pop seems to, but I just can't get past how dry it is. At least for me, it makes you a lot more thirsty the moment you start to drink it. It's terrible (not to offend anyone)... I may or may not get the lime one again, but in general I am Diet Cherry all of the way... Although, if I'm ever forced to go to a restaurant and if they have the magic pop machine (that can create literally any flavor) then I do add lime to it. Been a while, though. I hate going out to eat. It's probably the most stressful thing ever, even more so than when I have to deal with my dad... but that's another story entirely. AND, HEY. Can anyone guess what happens next? That's right! The trial begins! Stay turned.


	92. The Trial Begins

\- So, I only have one chapter for you this time, but it's a whopping 15 and a half pages, so hopefully that makes up for it. (PS: I don't purposely make things long or add extra chapters just to make more content. If I do something, it's because it makes sense at the time. So, sorry if it's too long. If you need to pause, there's a few breaks you can easily stop at.)

* * *

 **The Trial Begins (Day 58: Monday Morning)**

"I just thought it would be a good way to get everyone into the school spirit. It's always so hard, you know, coming back from the winter holidays. Everyone just gets so stressed after those first few weeks. It's hard to adjust back. I thought a manicure would be the perfect thing to help reduce stress and get back our school pride."

"But this event of yours was interrupted?" Audrey's lawyer comments.

"Yes," she confirms.

"What happened next?" he inquires.

"She came at me. She accused me of stealing water," Audrey hysterically responds. "And then—" She looks down for a mere second, before she lifts her head back up and slightly nods, "And she pushed me up against the wall. Grabbed me." Her voice squeaks, "The grip was so tight." as a couple tears run down her face.

"And then what happened?"

Audrey tries to recompose herself, but her breaths still shake, "She used some sort of magic on me. Her eyes glowed, and when she told me not to fight it, suddenly I couldn't do anything. It was like I could register my arms were there by my sides, but they weren't moving. I really wanted them to, but they wouldn't. I was paralyzed."

"Is there anything else?" the black haired lawyer prompts.

"She threatened me, and... She—" Audrey looks away from the audience and her parents, focusing on the man in front of her, "She tried to kiss me." before more tears escape her eyes.

"And after your assailant was taken from the room, what happened after that?"

Audrey takes a moment, before she says, "I was sent to the hospital. It took an hour for her spell to wear off. After it did I was examined, and there were bruise marks found."

The lawyer moves towards the projector and places an image over it, and Mal watches as the image is enlarged on the side wall. There's no mistaken it. That's Audrey's hair, and those fingerprints are bruises. "Are these the bruises that were found on you that night?"

Audrey nods and softly speaks, "Yes."

Mal whispers, "I swear, I didn't know about this." before she turns to look over her shoulder, Ben meeting her eyes with concern."

"Don't stress," Mr. Droit whispers back. "We still have a few strong points." After Audrey's lawyer returns to his seat, Mal's lawyer stands, "Permission to approach the plaintiff."

The judge nods, "Permission granted."

Mr. Droit walks up to the podium, "You say that my client tried to kiss you. May you clarify that for the court?"

Audrey hesitates, "She was leaning towards me, but her friend was begging her not to do it. By the time she had the chance to do it Ben showed up and stopped her."

"So, the kiss didn't actually happen?"

Audrey's lawyer stands up, "Objection. Leading."

"I will rephrase," Mr. Droit quickly comments, before he takes a second and asks instead, "How far did this presumed kiss go?"

"She was only an inch or two away. I could feel her breath on my face."

"I see," he slowly nods. "And you say that she grabbed you. Can you tell me where that was? Was there any other spot other than your arms?"

Audrey's frown deepens, "No. There wasn't."

Mal's lawyer turns towards the judge, "That will be all."

The judge nods in return, "The plaintiff may return to her seat." and after Audrey is safety seated he stares down at Mal. "The defendant will now take the stand."

Mal slides her chair out from the table and then stands, before she walks up to the podium and clasps her hands over her legs. "State your name for the court."

"Mal Bertha," she answers, but then she looks into the audience, as a few girls behind Audrey begin to snicker.

"Can you tell me what happened the night of the accused crime?" her lawyer questions.

"I don't remember much," Mal honestly replies. "I know I was cold, so I went to run a hot bath, but the water wasn't hot enough. So, I went to search for who took it."

"What else do you remember?" he questions.

It takes a moment for her to answer, "I vaguely remember talking to a girl in the hall. She told me that Audrey took the hot water. That's when I went to find her."

"Do you remember anything else?"

Mal slightly shakes her head, "No. Just Ben." before she looks down and remembers. "And Evie." She returns her sights to the lawyer. "Everything else is just flashes of pictures."

"Do you know what could have caused you to forget what happened that night?"

"Yes." She forces herself to look straight forward, "When I get cold I run more on instinct. I wasn't thinking clearly at the time, and for some reason the images I do remember didn't have an emotion attached to them like they normally would."

"So, you don't remember doing what you did?" he questions.

"Not really," Mal accidently looks down, before she takes a frustrated breath and looks back up again. "Up until I was told I did it, I thought Audrey and I just talked. But that's all. I don't remember anything else. I don't even remember any words."

Mr. Droit nods as he slowly paces, "You say you don't remember, but you did see the video. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

He turns back to her, "You know yourself better than anyone. If you had to take a guess as to what your true intentions were, then what would you say they were?"

It takes her a second to answer, "My main objective would have been to find heat. Since Audrey took the hot water, she would have been my focus. She stole my heat source, so I found her to get that heat back."

"The plaintiff accuses you of attempting to kiss her," the lawyer informs. "If that were the case, then why would that be?"

"Heat is gotten through contact," Mal easily answers. "A kiss would have just made it easier and faster to get that heat."

"So, you had no sexual intention with the girl?"

Mal almost laughs, "My boyfriend's ex-girlfriend is one of the last people I'd want to hook up with." She shakes her head, "Absolutely not."

Mr. Droit takes a step back and nods at the judge, "That will be all Your Honor." before he takes a seat, but soon enough Audrey's lawyer walks up to her.

"All of this talk of heat," he recounts. "Wouldn't it just be easier to find a blanket?"

Mal continues to frown, "All a blanket does is insulate someone's body heat. Because I can't make my own body heat, that wouldn't work for me."

He clasps his hands behind his back, "You can't generate your own body heat. That's right." before he smirks. "How do you get your heat, then?"

Mal glances at her lawyer before answering, "Since I arrived here I've been dependent on hot baths, and since that night with Audrey I've also been given a heat lamp."

"But prior to that?" the lawyer coaxes. "When there's no heat lamp or hot water around, what do you do then?"

It takes a minute for her to answer, "Things like fire and hot surfaces like stoves can help." The lawyer waits for her to continue. "When those things are also not around, I have to find other direct heat sources."

"Like people," he insinuates. "Tell me, do you often resort to physical contact with people when these other heat sources of yours aren't readily available?"

"Objection," Mr. Droit stands. "Leading."

"Dismissed," the judge orders, before Mal's lawyer slowly sits back down.

Mal looks back at the black haired lawyer in front of her, "If those other sources aren't readily available, then I usually have someone I can go to for heat instead."

"Was that person not available for you that night?" he questions.

"No," Mal softly answers as she looks to where Ben and Evie sit. "She was."

"She," he lifts his eyebrows in surprise. "You couldn't be talking about that girl who tried to stop you from assaulting the princess, could you?"

"Evie," Mal evenly answers. "She's my best friend. She would do anything for me."

"She would offer heat to you?" he clarifies.

"Yes."

He smiles, "So, you forced yourself onto the princess, when you already had someone willing to give you heat?"

It takes Mal a minute to whisper, "Yes."

"I don't think they heard you," he comments. "Can you say that a little louder?"

"Yes," Mal hisses at him. "I had someone willing, but I didn't have her." She closes her eyes, "I'm so sorry." before she looks over towards Evie. "I would take it back if I could."

"What about the victim?" he prompts. "Do you feel sorry for her?"

Mal looks back at him, "It shouldn't have happened." before she looks at Audrey. "And even though I don't remember it, I do regret it. Even if all I did was touch her arms, I hate seeing the impact it has had on her because of what she thought I was attempting to do."

The lawyer backs off, "I'm finished Your Honor."

The judge nods, "We will now have an intermission. Be back here in thirty minutes." before he pounds his gavel and the people start to disperse.

* * *

"I messed up," Mal places a hand to her head as she and the lawyer sit across from each other at the black table.

"It's not your fault," Mr. Droit comments. "The judge wasn't being fair, and that other lawyer was just trying to get a confession out of you." It's quiet for a moment, but murmuring from the people outside the room can still be heard. "You did one thing right." She looks at him. "You didn't admit to the crime. When he asked if you were sorry for what you did, you phrased it in a way that makes it look like you know you are innocent."

Mal lets out a breath, "I can't believe I'm doing this to her." and then she gulps. "After this entire thing is over— if we win—" She shakes her head, "She will be the girl that was hurt and who no one believes. I can't do that to her. I can't make her feel that way."

"Look," the lawyer tries to reason. "Audrey is a princess and a very vocal member of her church. When all of this is done, when we win, there's a good chance that a lot of people will still believe her and will still be on her side. You're the one with the disadvantage here."

"So, what?" Mal half laughs.

"So," he evenly responds, "I think you should be more worried about yourself. These things, they happen, and most of the time it's a grey area. Most of the time it is because there was a misunderstanding of communication— or the lack thereof. Even under these special circumstances, the law will say that this wasn't a purposeful crime."

"Who cares if there was a lack of communication?" Mal breathes in disbelief.

"If the person accused of the crime didn't mean to hurt the other person," he tries to reason, "then there's no reason for such a harsh punishment to be given."

"Some people deserve punishment," Mal mumbles.

"Not in a case like this," the lawyer disagrees. "A punishment isn't going to change anything. All it's going to do is hurt more people. If no harm was meant—"

Mal widens her eyes, "I don't care if no harm was meant. It doesn't change what he did." before her expression softens and her mouth gapes at the realization." She shakes her head, "Uh, I've— I'm just tired."

It takes a moment for him to speak, "I understand you must have gone through a lot." before she looks back up at him. "But that's in the past. This is the here and now. You need to focus on your current situation, and if you've somehow been wronged… you shouldn't be punishing yourself for it."

"Why not?" Mal tiredly responds. "It's my fault it happened."

"You can't take a punishment for a crime you did not commit," he insists.

Mal hears the door open but ignores it, "And if I did do the crime, if I was given enough time to do it?"

Ben closes the door, "Then I would still be right here with you." before he turns to the lawyer. "What's going on here?"

"She's afraid of hurting Audrey," he simply says.

Ben cracks an uneasy smile at Mal, "Really? You spend your entire life being taught how to hurt people, nearly overthrow me even though you did care about me, but now you can't put your feelings above someone else's for one case?"

Mal lets out a breath, "You don't know how it feels like to be hurt and have no one believe you. I can't do that to her."

"No," Ben frowns, glancing down at the floor for a moment, before he takes a step forward. "I do." He sits down in the chair between them. "But Audrey will make it through this, okay?" He takes her hand, "She has more friends, community, and support than anyone I know. Even if she loses this case, they're all still going to be there for her. But if you lose this case…" He squeezes her hand, "Mal. You will lose everything if you don't win this." Mal stays quiet, looking away for a moment. "But you know that already, don't you?" Mal looks back up with a sorrowful expression. "Mal." He wets his lips, "I don't know about you, but if I were ever… unpleasantly treated by someone, winning a case wouldn't mean anything to me. Because, it still happened. And nothing you do is going to change that."

"You don't think Audrey wants to win," she doubts.

"In her interview she said all she wanted was to make sure you didn't do this again, for you to recognize the wrong that you've done." He slightly moves his head down but keeps eye contact with her, "Now, I'd say we've achieved that. Wouldn't you?"

Mal moves her eyes away from him, "If I were ever hurt, I would want that person to pay for what they've done." before she looks back again. "You can't say that Audrey doesn't want some kind of justice too."

"Sometimes what a person really needs," Ben tries to reason, "is help, not punishment."

Mal scoffs, "Right."

The lawyer glances at his watch, "There's five minutes left." before he looks at Mal. "After what you said there's a good chance that they're going to call your friend to the stand. If that's so, then I need to speak with her."

"She should still be with my parents," Ben informs.

He nods before standing from the table, "Okay. I'll give you two some privacy." before he exists out the door.

Ben places a hand to Mal's cheek, before she lets out a breath, "What are you doing?"

"I won't be able to see you before you leave," he explains before moving forward to kiss her. "When you're sent back to jail I won't be able to visit. If you need my heat, then this, these intermissions, will be the only time you can have me." He places his other hand on her arm, "And I don't want to have to see you back at that hospital again."

"My nails are cut," she attempts to reassure.

"But you still have your teeth," he acknowledges.

She sees his sad expression, "Ben."

"I don't want you to hurt yourself again," he tenses.

Mal is quiet for a second, before she promises, "I won't be sent to that hospital again."

"Good," Ben relaxes some before moving in to kiss her again.

* * *

After the video is done playing Audrey's lawyer questions Evie, "You're the girl trying to prevent Mal from harming the princess, is that right?"

"Yes," she confirms.

He nods before taking a step forward, "The words were a little hard to make out. Can you tell the court what it was you were telling her?"

Evie takes a second before saying, "Mal wasn't in her right mind at the time. It didn't matter that the hot water was already used. She still wanted to get that heat back from Audrey. In the video I was just trying to convince her that she didn't have to do it."

"What else?" the lawyer prompts.

"Just that I was there for her," Evie softly responds. "That she could have me instead."

"But she didn't accept your offer, did she?"

"No," Evie frowns in response. "It was almost like she didn't even know I was there."

"You seemed really upset about it," he notes. "Why is that?"

It takes a moment for her to answer, "Mal's my best friend. If she can't come to me when she needs something, then there's obviously something wrong."

"Is that all?" he questions.

"Yeah," Evie answers. "Of course."

"Need I remind you that you're under oath? Perjury— lying on the stand— is a crime in of itself." He stares at her again, "Now. Tell me. Are you sure that is all?"

Evie hears whispers as she takes a minute before confessing, "On the Isle I was Mal's heat source for the last few years. Every time she asked for me, I gave myself to her. Even when she refused to ask for help, I was there for her." Evie feels the tears intrude her eyes, "Seeing her try to get heat from some other girl, it felt like betrayal."

"A few years," the lawyer repeats. "How many is that exactly?"

"Three."

He nods, "Right. And how would you give her heat exactly?"

"Objection," Mr. Droit hurries. "Relevance."

"Denied," the judge immediately responds.

The grey eyed lawyer interrogates, "In which ways would you give heat to the defendant? Did you two ever, let's say, kiss, for instance?"

Evie glances from Mal back to Audrey's lawyer, "At first it did start with kissing, but eventually it could have been as simple as just having a sleepover and have her hold me when we were asleep, no kiss required."

"What prompted that change?" he inquires.

She looks down for a second, "It was partly due to my mother's disapproval. She was convinced that if I continued that kind of relationship with Mal, then I would never be able to get a boyfriend."

"And the other part?" the lawyer coaxes.

Evie looks at Ben for a moment before eyeing the man again, "At the time it was really easy for Mal to hook up with someone and then pretend like it never happened. I had a hard time with that, and because she is such a great friend she accepted my condition to not be kissed by her again."

"So, to be clear, you two have not kissed since then?"

"Uh," Evie hesitates in response. "There may have been a few or more times since then." She glances down, "It's complicated."

"Then let me ask something simple," he calmly comments, and when she looks back up at him he continues, "It has been justified that the defendant only attacked my client because she was in charge of the event that used the hot water, but with you sitting here I now wonder… Aside from you, has the defendant been with any other girls?"

Evie gives a questioning look, "No one of significance that I know of."

"But she has, hasn't she?" the lawyer asserts.

"Yes," Evie slowly answers.

"So, she does have homosexual tendencies, does she not?"

Evie's mouth is gaped as she's quiet for a moment, "What does it matter? It's not like Mal did what she did because Audrey is a girl." Her eyebrows rise, "In case you didn't notice, there are like a hundred girls at our school." before she points to herself. "Me included."

"But isn't it probable," the lawyer interrupts, "that those homosexual inclinations of hers would have made it more likely for her to commit this crime?"

Evie gives him a look, "If Mal likes both guys and girls, then that means that what happened happened regardless of Audrey's gender, not because of it." She sees the lawyer about to speak, "And even if she were a hundred percent straight, that wouldn't have kept her from getting mad about the hot water being missing. There most likely still would have been a confrontation. It just probably wouldn't have looked like this."

"Has the defendant ever had sex with another girl before?" he probes.

"No," Evie loudly defends. "Just because she needs contact to get heat, that doesn't make her a whore. Believe it or not, Mal doesn't have sex with every single person she gets into some kind of relationship with. And, another thing, she doesn't hook up with just anyone she sees. She needs to be able to trust them, so she's not about to kiss some rando in the hall."

"Order," the judge yells as he pounds his gavel onto the wood, before he looks down upon the lawyer. "Do you have any other questions you wish to ask the witness?"

The lawyer stares at Evie for a minute, before he takes a step back, "No. I think that will be all Your Honor."

Mr. Droit stands, "Permission to rebuttal."

The judge nods, "Go ahead."

The dark-brown haired lawyer walks up to Evie, "First off, I would like to ask you: what is the job of a heat source? When it comes to a person, what are the requirements to give heat to my client?"

Evie lets out an easing breath, almost smiling, "When it comes to people Mal's heat sources can either be considered primary or not primary. A primary heat source would be giving heat in more direct ways, such as a kiss or… a cuddle. But then there's secondary heat sources. Those are people who are there for her, but they may not be able to offer as much heat as fast, because they would have limited physical contact."

"So, not every person who acts as a heat source has to kiss her?" he questions.

"That's correct." Evie answers. "All it really is is skin to skin contact. A sexual or even romantic relationship isn't required for that."

"And just to make another thing clear," the blue eyed lawyer questions, "what is the relationship between you and my client?"

"We're best friends," Evie simply says.

"And the two of you have never dated?" he questions.

"No," Evie laughs. "Mal's never dated anyone before." She partly smiles at Ben, "Ben truly is her first real relationship."

Mr. Droit takes a step forward, "Can you tell me, is Ben one of Mal's heat sources?"

It takes a second for Evie to answer, "He wasn't at the time that the event took place. Their relationship had only started, and she didn't want to risk it by telling him about her."

"Is he her heat source now?"

It takes another moment for her to answer, "Yes. He started to take up that role prior to her being held in jail."

"So, if she were to ever need direct heat from a person again," he slowly comments, "would that mean that she would now have another person to go to if she needs it?"

"Yes," Evie confirms.

The lawyer nods and then paces a few steps, before he speaks, "What about prior to Ben, prior to you? How did Mal get her heat then? Was it from several random people, as the opposition seems to claim? Or was it more like long-term steady relationships?"

"Mal's need for heat has been a thing her entire life," Evie carefully explains. "From what I was told, when she was younger she didn't need as much. At that point in her life Jay was her main heat source. Probably her first, actually. But when that wasn't enough anymore she had to find heat somewhere else. That eventually led her to a brothel, where she did have to pay to get heat from prostitutes. There were a few she would regularly go to, but she tried to stay with the same ones if she could help it."

After she silences the lawyer questions, "So, my client does prefer to keep to the same people? She doesn't like to get heat from just anyone?"

"That's correct," Evie answers.

"And based on that fact and how well you know her," he continues, "how likely would you say it is that she would have done the crime accused of her?"

"Very unlikely," she immediately answers. "What Mal may have attempted to do, it was not something she has ever done before. And even if it weren't for this trial, I doubt she would have ever attempted anything like it to anyone else in the future."

The lawyer grins in response, "One last thing." and it takes a second for him to continue. "My client was accused of using magic. Do you have anything to say about that?"

"Well, for one," Evie starts, "it wasn't magic. Mal's eyes don't glow when she does magic. You can ask any of the girls she hairstyled. They can confirm it."

"Can you tell me what it is, if not magic?" he asks.

She nods, "It's from her dragon heritage. The glowing eyes allow her detect heat, see in the dark, and hypnotize animals or humans to do as she wishes. That's all it can really do, though. It doesn't have the range of capabilities that magic does." She looks up in thought, "It would pretty much be the equivalence to the staff Jay's father Jafar once had. Pretty low grade if you think about it."

"And this ability of hers," the lawyer continues. "Is it something she has complete control over or is it more of an instinctual response?"

"It is very much tied to her biology," Evie evenly answers. "She does have a little control over it, but it can happen even when she doesn't want it to. Like when she's stressed, scared, or angry, for instance. It's not always a purposeful thing. It can happen by accident."

He nods before taking a step back, "Finished Your Honor."

"Do you have a final witness you would like to present to us today?" the judge asks.

"Yes," Mr. Droit answers before turning towards the audience. "I would like to call Carlos De Vil to the stand." Carlos stands up and heads to the podium, and when he sits the lawyer continues. "Please state your relationship with the defendant and how long you have known her for."

"I'm Mal's friend," Carlos uneasily says as he eyes around the room. "I've known Mal for about two or three years now."

"And you were present at the event Audrey hosted, is that correct?"

"Yes," Carlos says, trying to keep his attention away from all the stares. "Jane, uh, my other friend, she invited me."

"So, you saw what transpired?" Mr. Droit asks.

"Yes," Carlos confirms.

"Can you tell what you saw and what you thought of it?"

He nods, "Yeah. Uh, there was a lot of people, but Jane pointed Mal out to me. I saw how panicked Evie was, and I watched as Mal went after Audrey." He takes a deep breath and looks down for a moment. "I was surprised. Jane had asked me what Mal was doing and why, and I was just speechless. I couldn't say anything. It was just so odd."

"What was odd about it?" the lawyer questions.

Carlos thinks for a second, "It was just… well, Mal. I'd never seen her like that before. She was so—" He lets out a breath, "Desperate. It was like her world had fallen apart and she was grasping for strings, but… she had it all. She had friends— and people, people who love her. She could have gotten heat from any of them. Going after Audrey like that, it just didn't make any sense… not unless it was out of vengeance or something."

"So, like Evie, do you too believe that this occurrence was out of the ordinary for Mal?"

Carlos is quiet for a second, "I will admit that I don't know Mal nearly as well as Evie or Jay do, but what I can say is that from what I've seen is that Mal is very practical and strategy oriented. She has a plan and reason for everything. Doing something this reckless…" He shakes his head before nodding, "It's definitely out of character for her."

"Why do you think it happened?" he inquires.

Carlos glances down, "I don't know… Maybe it was just instinct, her need for heat making her completely irrational in that moment." He half laughs, "It's simple, isn't it? For some simple, dumb animal? The dragon saw the hot water, a key to her survival, as hers. In Mal's mind, Audrey took that water. Therefore, the dragon Mal finds Audrey to get the stolen item back and to deal with the thief accordingly." After a moment of silence and a glance around the room he shrugs, "Or something like that."

It takes a minute for the lawyer to note, "A minute ago you said that the defendant was your friend, but now you're comparing her to an animal."

"It's what she is," Carlos doubles down, "and it doesn't make me like her any less. She's a great person to have on your side if you need someone to have your back. But because of what she is, that makes her more powerful and fierce than any human."

The lawyer hesitates, "So, do you see her dragon heritage as a bad thing?"

"No. Of course, not," Carlos grins. "You know, hybrids practically rule the Isle. If you're something more than human on the Isle, then you're practically guaranteed a job. Hybrids have power. That's a good thing. The only thing I hate is when they waste it on stupid things." The lawyer doesn't speak. "And, plus, I can say that I'm friends with someone who's part dragon. You know who else can say that? No one! Because Mal is the only one there is."

Mal tenses, as she feels all of the stares, before she glances around in worry and meets Ben's concerned eyes. He whispers, "I thought you said Carlos was smart and quiet."

Mal lets out a breath, "Well, apparently when he has something to say, he says it."

As Mr. Droit sits down, Ben worries, "Mal. If they know you're the only one—"

"I know," she whispers back, before she turns back around and watches as Audrey's lawyer approaches Carlos.

"In your first statement," the black haired lawyer comments, "you said you didn't understand why the defendant would attack Princess Audrey, unless it had been out of some kind of vengeance. Is that what you think, that the defendant could have done this on purpose?"

Carlos watches a couple judges from the panel straighten up, clearly interested, before he looks back at the lawyer, "Mal isn't stupid. She's very smart. There's no way she would have publically sought revenge had she been in her right mind."

"But had she not been in her right mind, had she been taken over by this more instinctual, animalistic part of her," the lawyer counters, "then is it possible that she would have sought vengeance on the princess even in that public setting?"

Carlos frowns and slowly states, "I suppose it's a possibility."

He takes a step back, "That will be all Your Honor."

* * *

"Okay. You haven't said anything the whole way home," Carlos speaks up, as they enter their dorm. "What gives?"

"What gives?" Jay nearly shouts as he turns around. "You're such a bigot, you know that?" He frustrates, "Calling Mal an animal. Seriously?"

"It's what she is," Carlos uneasily defends.

"No," Jay denies. "She's—" He lets out a shaky breath, "She's practically my sister. What does that make me?"

Carlos gives him a look, "It's not about you." before he watches Jay place a hand to his head. "Look. Like I said on the stand, what Mal is, it doesn't make me like her any less. In fact, I might even like her better the way she is."

Jay slightly shakes his head, "You know how much danger you just put her in?"

He looks at him unsurely, "What do you mean?"

Jay nearly laughs in stress, "You just told the whole world that Mal is the only dragon hybrid in existence. Now, forget about her mother, because she might as well not even be one anymore anyway, but Mal… The humans might think that a very easy solution to this whole problem might be just to kill the only hybrid dragon left."

"They can't do that," Carlos informs. "The death penalty doesn't exist here anymore."

"You think that's going to matter," Jay counters, "to the other million people you just told? At least one of them has to be thinking that standing up for their princess by murdering quote 'some animal' is a good thing, even if they do get punished for it."

"You don't have anything to worry about. Mal can protect herself."

"You think so?" Jay questions in disbelief.

"She's a hybrid," Carlos points out. "She's powerful and strong, and she can do anything. She can protect herself. That's better than…" He slightly shakes his head with a shrug, "Well, than being weak and hopeless like me."

Jay lets out a breath, "You wouldn't want to be a hybrid. It creates just as many problems as it fixes, maybe even more. And being treated as some outsider, whether it's as some god or some monster of an animal—" He shakes his head, "Believe me. You're better off just being human. It causes less problems."

It takes a minute for Carlos to comment, "I have to disagree."

Jay responds in frustration, "You know what I bet the real problem is here?" before he leans forward a little. "You're just too young. You're young, impulsive, and ignorant."

Carlos's frown deepens as he quietly replies, "Jay—"

"You know what age of consent is? It's the age that someone can legally consent to sex. Until then, they're considered too emotionally immature for it. And you know what that age is here?" Carlos doesn't speak. "Sixteen," Jay stresses. "I shouldn't even be with you."

"Then it's a good thing we're not dating, then," Carlos retorts, but he sees it doesn't decrease Jay's anxious concern. "And what about Chad? He's fifteen and Audrey's sixteen."

"Yeah, but they never had sex, did they," Jay points out. "And even if they did, they're royal. Audrey'd probably get off with a slap on the wrists. But me? Technically, we're all ex-prisoners. That makes it worse for me."

"It was consensual," he tries to reassure.

"That doesn't matter," Jay denies. "You're still just a kid. And I'm older. That means the decision falls on me." He lets out a shaky breath as he places a hand to his head again, "A fucking fourteen-year-old. What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking," Carlos comments in annoyance, "that I'm only two years younger than you. Besides, this whole thing started before you turned sixteen. Remember?" Jay doesn't speak. "I seriously don't think it's as big of an issue as you're making it out to be, but even if it is—" He shakes his head, "So long as no one finds out, does it really matter? I mean, that was your plan, right? That no one finds out, that this is just some fling that no one can know about?"

Jay shakes his head, "I can't deal with this right now." before he heads for the door. "I've got to get down to lunch and find Ben."

"Why?" Carlos questions.

"Mal," Jay irritably answers. "What do ya think?"

After Jay shuts the door Carlos whispers, "Well. That went well." before he waits a few minutes and then heads down to the cafeteria himself.

* * *

\- **RadioDog77** Thank you for your input. I really wasn't sure what to think of Ben's knowledge (or lack of) of the situation, but now I think I know how he should react to the information. Also, really glad your friend is doing better now. There was a time when someone said they'd kill themselves if I didn't kiss them, and for a long time afterwards I felt like lighting my lips on fire. I can only imagine how much more horrible it would be for someone who experienced an actual assault. So, I really do hope that your friend is doing better and that they continue doing better.

-So, something that occurred to me as I edited this: does Mr. Droit talking with Evie count as witness tampering? I know that court is probably a lot more structured than I have portrayed here, but because court is bad... I guess, I try to avoid it and therefore don't know a lot about the inner workings of how a case transpires. Honestly, my view on court and police is probably skewed a lot from being from a lower income and having a family who has gotten into just enough legal trouble, but that's besides the point. If there are predetermined witness lists, then I could see how talking with a witness from the opponent's list could be seen as tampering, but Mal's lawyer doing that can't be much worse than Audrey's lawyer constantly using her title. I couldn't put it in this chapter. I'll have to see if I can put it in the next, but basically to reduce the chances of unfair sentences royals would have to be treated like everyone else on the stand and therefore have the title of their name to be dropped... Also, for those confused on how Carlos could have told the whole world that Mal is the only dragon hybrid in existence, because Audrey is a royal her kingdom has the right to know what's happening to her in court. So, there's a news camera in the audience... Like I said, I just really need to find a good spot to put this information. It's a little frustrating, really. I keep running into this trap where I know pertinent information to what I'm writing but that sometimes I really can't find a good way to fit it into the story. It's annoying. Hopefully you guys haven't been too lost. At the very least these notes should be helping, even if it does make me look insecure and unsure (which I may or may not be).


	93. Distant

**Distant**

 **(Day 59: Tuesday Morning)**

"You weren't kidding when you said this place values safety over privacy."

Ben glances behind them, noticing the news cameras, before he informs Evie, "Actually, cameras aren't usually allowed in here, but because Audrey is a royal her kingdom has the right to know what's going on."

Evie hums before commenting, "That's nice." as they watch Mal enter through the door, being led to the table in front of them, before she sits and the handcuffs are taken from her wrists. "They're treating her like she's already guilty."

"Yeah," Ben whispers back. "She's a powerful hybrid. That makes her a flight risk."

Evie scoffs, "If Mal really wanted to get out of this, she could just hypnotize her way out of here and go somewhere else."

"Maybe," Ben counters. "But then she wouldn't have us."

"No," Evie denies. "She would. We'd just be held hostage."

Ben almost laughs, before he places his fingers up in quotes, "Right. 'Hostage'." before Chad is called to the stand and Audrey's lawyer walks up to him.

He questions, "Is it true that you were the one that recorded the attack on the princess?"

"Yes," Chad answers.

"And the victim is your girlfriend, is that correct?"

"Yes," Chad answers again.

"Tell me, how did it feel to see your girlfriend in such a vulnerable situation?"

It takes a moment for him to say, "I was surprised, and then after it was over I was angry. Audrey has to be the most innocent person at our school. It wasn't right for her to be attacked like that."

Ben's father comments, "Wasn't he just at the castle some night last week?"

"Shh," Ben whispers. "That's a secret."

Evie gives him a look, "Sleeping with the enemy?"

He partly smiles, "More like videogames, and also. He's not an enemy."

"You say that," she disapproves, "but he literally just called your girlfriend a monster."

"No, he didn't," Ben denies before looking back towards Chad in unsureness.

"A monster," the lawyer repeats. "That's a strong word."

"And it's true in both the physical and personality sense," Chad confirms, before he eyes the audience. "PS: if you want hybrids to identify themselves at Auradon Prep, then sign Audrey's petition."

Ben looks over at Audrey, whom glances over at him, lowers her head, and then turns back to continue to observe the display. The black haired lawyer questions, "Was this petition you mention created before or after the attack on Princess Audrey?"

"After," Chad answers. "We think it will make the school safer."

"We?" Ben whispers as he furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head.

"Remind me how you're friends with him," Evie comments.

"Because we've always been," Ben slowly says before Evie gives him a look. "Look. I don't know how to describe it beyond that. It's like it doesn't matter how long we go without talking or what horrible things we do to each other. We're always just still friends."

She's quiet for a minute, "I can't tell if that's something special or if the only reason why you never stopped being friends with Chad is because you don't believe in having enemies."

"Definitely something special," Ben confirms. "He's the most confusing person I know, saying he wants me to be happy one moment and then testifying against my girlfriend the next." He lifts a shoulder, "Granted, I knew it was going to have to turn out like this, but still. It's the kind of thing he does literally all the time."

"And you don't get sick of it?" Evie questions.

Ben's quiet as he watches Mr. Droit walk towards Chad, "With how busy I am it can be rather annoying, but no. At the end of the day it's just something to kind of laugh about, because I know he doesn't actually mean it." He hears Evie hum in acknowledgement, before the lawyer asks his first question.

"Why did you record the video?"

"What?" Chad asks in confusion.

"When your girlfriend was being confronted by my client, you recorded the video. You didn't intervene, and you didn't move closer to the plaintiff during the video either. Tell me, what prompted you to just stand still and record the incident?"

"I always record things," Chad unsurely responds. "The video was already going."

"But you didn't defend your girlfriend. In fact, you were treating it like some spectacle. Why is that? Did you truly believe that she was in any danger?"

"Maybe not at first," he frowns, "but by the time she was pushed against the wall I did realize that."

"If that's so, then why didn't you come to her defense?"

Chad smiles in disbelief, "Because she has magic. Her and her blue haired friend have used it on me before. I wasn't about to put myself in that kind of situation again."

"Even for your girlfriend?" he questions.

Chad's quiet for a long moment, "I don't know why I didn't try to save her. It would have been the right thing to do. I know that, but… I guess it was just easier hiding behind a camera."

"And had you been the one being confronted," Mal's lawyer inquires, "how would you have felt about the situation then?"

He glances down, "It doesn't matter what I would have thought of it." before he gazes over at Ben. "Because, in the end I would have been saved anyway."

The lawyer nods before taking a step back, "That will be all Your Honor."

The judge nods in return and then looks over at Audrey's legal team, "You had a video you wanted to present?"

"Yes, Your Honor," the grey eyed man responds. "It's a testimony of people who knew the defendant prior to her arrival to Auradon, and we would also like the defendant to take the stand so that questions may be asked afterwards, if you so please."

"I will allow it," the judge states before looking down on Mal. "The defendant is recalled to the stand."

As Ben watches Mal walk up to the podium, he questions to Evie, "This can't be good, can it?"

"Ah, definitely not," she responds at the absurdity. "All of Mal's friends are right here. The only people who are left—"

When the video begins to play on the side wall Evie's mother and Jay's father can be seen. Evie glances over at Jay, but they both stay silent as the video continues. Jafar answers, "Yes, I knew her. That little brat was always getting in the way." He lifts a wooden spoon towards the camera, "You know, if it weren't for her, I'd be with my son right now. But no. She had to go off and fall in love."

"I'd hardly call it love," the Evil Queen responds. "That girl isn't capable of it."

"What do you mean?" the lawyer asks.

The Evil Queen seethes, "Well. Let's just say that when people care about her, she has a really hard time showing them any love in return." She points at the camera, "Who all will be seeing this again?"

"It's for court. Mal and anyone close to her will probably be there."

She smiles, "Hey. If you're hearing this, my little evilette, you should come home. Surely you've had enough of that horrid girl by now." and her smile is actually somewhat sweet. "You know no one will ever love you more than Mommy. Come home. I miss you."

"Mal will be standing trial for sexual assault," the lawyer gets back on track. "Does this surprise you?"

"Not at all," she answers.

"Keep in mind that we never really talked with her," Jafar interrupts.

"Yes," the Evil Queen lifts up a gloved finger. "If you want some real dirt, you should go down to Ursula's. That retched girl used to work there." She scoffs, "Before she quit."

Ben and Mal share a look, before their eyes return to the video. It's been cut to an image of Uma, the lawyer questioning, "Are you the manager?"

"Just great," she sarcastically responds in annoyance, before she turns and yells, "Yo, Gil. You mind telling me how a penguin got into my restaurant?"

The lawyer informs, "I would like to ask you some questions about Mal."

"Mal?" Uma's eyebrows rise, her eyes seeming to light up as she maliciously grins. "This ought to be good."

The guy's voice is heard off camera, "Do you still want him out of here?"

"Nah." Uma twists her small, blue braids, "We're all good here." before she gives Gil a stern look. "Get back to work."

"Yes, Uma," the worker responds.

She turns back to the lawyer, "You had some questions for me?"

"Is it true that Mal worked for you?"

She laughs, "If you call seducing customers working." before she nods. "Yeah. She did her job. And she was mighty fine at it too… Shame what happened."

"What happened?" he inquires.

"Oh, well. You know," Uma starts. "There comes a time in every villain's life when they want to make a name for themselves." She sighs, "Mal just wanted more, I guess. I can't blame her for that." before her voice becomes sterner. "What I blame her for is setting up her coworker to nearly getting fired."

"Which coworker was that?" the lawyer questions. "If you don't mind me asking."

She looks away and yells, "Hook." before nodding him over.

"Oh, no," Ben whispers, before he glances over at Mal and notices her eyes flicker brightly for a second.

When he returns his attention to the screen Hook is in view, and the lawyer questions, "Is it true that Mal attempted to get you fired?"

He half laughs, "Why, she did much more than that laddie."

"What did she do?"

Hook takes a drink from the glass bottle, "Come on outside. It'll be quieter."

After they make it outside the lawyer questions, "How well did you know Mal?"

"Very well, I'd say," he responds, leaning up against the wooden wall and hanging tarp. "I met her on down at the whorehouse some years ago— she has this need for heat, ya know— and… I admit. I fancied her. She was intriguing, so I offered myself up to her for free." He takes a drink. "After she accepted we had some nice nights together, and then one day— one day— I took her here. Wanna guess the first thing she did?" The lawyer waits for him to continue. "She was cozying up to some girl."

"Were you two exclusive?" he questions. "Was she cheating?"

Hook sighs, "To my dismay, no. She was a free ship." and when he finishes off his drink he opens the top off of a crate and grabs another one. "But I wasn't upset. She had a real talent for it, manipulating people into givin' her what she wanted." He uncorks the bottle with his hook. "After a few more visits Uma noticed her talents, and with a nice recommendation from me, she got the job."

"Job?"

"Ya know," Hook explains, "The good old fashioned welcome wagon. Gettin' people to stay, making them want more." He smiles after a gulp, "Sold a fair amount of ecstasy too."

Mal places a hand to her forehead, her breathing starting to become quick and short.

"She sold drugs?" he asks in surprise.

"Why, yes," Hook answers, "to anyone who was stupid 'nough to lay eyes on her." He places a hand to the side of his mouth, as though whispering, "She has a problem, you see, with her spit. It makes it so that anyone she makes out with can't feel what's happenin', but the ecstasy fixed all that. It made it so that anyone who was with her could feel what happened."

"The manager said she almost got you fired," the lawyer continues on.

"Ah, yes. That," he responds as he kicks his boot off from the wall and stands straight. "So, three years pass, right? We're gettin' close, business is a booming, and everythin's great." He nods down, "But then." before he makes a displeased noise. "That bitch ruined it."

"How?"

"How?" he raises his eyebrows, and then he steps forward. "That whore had us makin' out on a blanket behind some shipments. Her hands were all over me, under my shirt, thumb in my waistband. She even took my shirt off. And then we fucked."

Ben notice's Mal's eyes glow again, but this time they stay glowing, "Something's wrong."

"You had sex with her?" the lawyer clarifies.

"Yeah." Hook almost grins, "Fucked her so good, in fact, that she had to go off and tell everyone about it."

Evie sees Mal's eyes glow brighter, "She's scared." but then she watches Mal continuously blink as she slightly shakes her head. "Or stressed. I can't tell which."

"And that almost got you fired?" he questions.

"May be both," Ben observes. "Come on, Mal. Fight it."

Hook is quiet for a second, "Normally it wouldn't, but Purple is a very smart girl. So, what she do?" He grits his teeth, "She went off and acted as though it wasn't her own fucking idea in the first place, knowin' that I'd probably get fired for it." before he spits onto the ground. "Stupid cunt. Thinkin' she can sleep her way to the top and then rid herself of thee man who put her there." He shakes his head, "It's despicable." and then he closes in with a few more steps. "I gave her everything, ye know: a job, allies— heat. She would be dead if it weren't for me."

Ben notices his parents glance at him. He knows why. If Mal slept her way to the top and tried to get rid of that guy before, then there's no reason why she wouldn't do it again. _But she wouldn't. She wouldn't do that. Especially not to me_. He looks at her again, seeing her struggle just as much as she had been a moment ago. _She cares about me. I know she does_.

The lawyer doesn't move, "Mal has been accused of sexual assault. Can you tell me what you think about that?"

He lifts up his head and runs his tongue over a few bottom teeth, "Who with? That king of hers?"

"No," the lawyer evenly answers. "The attack was on Princess Audrey, a girl who attends the same school as her."

Hook half laughs, "What did I tell you? She's nothin' but a cunt. She had herself both a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and she cheated on them both? That's brilliant."

"Excuse me?" he asks in confusion. "Girlfriend?"

"That lass with the blue hair," Hook states. "Evie. That's who Purple started to hook up with after she left me."

"But you also said that you and Mal weren't a couple," the lawyer reminds him, "so what convinces you that Mal and Evie are?"

"Easy," he answers. "They're exclusive." He smiles, "Which would be somethin' very hard for Purple to do… you know, with her little heat issue."

"Based on the timeline you gave," the lawyer notes, "it would have been about three years since she left you. If she started seeing this girl directly after that, then how can you be sure that they're still together?"

"Another easy question," Hook evenly answers. "About a week or so before they all left I was told to scout their territry, and as I was doin' that I found them makin' out on some buildin's terrace. They also had a tendency to hold hands, which helps my case."

"So, you think that Mal could be dating both her friend and the king at the same time," he simplifies.

"Doubt thee king knows," Hook comments before taking another swig of his drink. "That poor lad's goin' ta get his little heart ripped out."

"Literally or metaphorically?"

"Well, she's a dragon, ain't she," Hook reminds him. "So, either way, really."

Mal tries to steady her breathing. _He isn't here. He isn't here. He's not here_.

"Is there anything else you would like to say?" the lawyer questions.

"Nah." He lifts his hook up, "Ah. Wait. Jus' one more thing." Hook stares into the camera, face full screen, an open smirk on his face. "You're stupid if ya think ye can tame her. She's a wild, intelligent creature, and a stupid human like you— one who's not even evil, mind you— could never handle her. She needs someone who can understand her true nature. If you keep her locked up in that city of yours, everythin' ye've built will be destroyed. Believe me. No one knows her better than I."

When the video is over Ben sees his parents look over at him, "Well, obviously, he's a psychopath."

"Obviously," his mother repeats. "Even so, he may very well be right."

"You can't mean that," Ben disbelieves.

"Next time," the judge looks down upon the lawyer, "keep your video to the point. I didn't come to listen to some girl in dreadlocks and some guy in makeup whine."

"They're pirates," the lawyer reasons. "It's just the way they dress. It doesn't make their testimony any less valid."

Ben's father speaks up, "You had to have known dating a villain's kid would be a risk."

"She's changed," Ben urges. "No. She's good. She's always wanted to be good."

The judge comments, "I will put the video under advisement. For now, you may question the defendant."

"Maybe," his father frowns. "But no matter how good someone wants to be, some people just can't. You can only fight your nature so much."

"She has me," Ben urges. "Even if that were true, she has me."

"It won't be good enough," his mother warns. "If it's truly in her nature to be violent or what-have-you, you're not always going to be able to keep that part of her at bay."

"Open your eyes," the grey eyed lawyer instructs. Mal shakes her head.

"I don't care," Ben stresses. "I love her. Okay? And she cares about me. Why can't that just be good enough?"

His parents fall silent, and when his mother finally has a response Evie interrupts with a tap on Ben's shoulder, "Ben."

He looks over at Mal and sees her eyes brightly glow, and even after she blinks they still do. The lawyer comments, "Looks like we've hit nerve. Tell me, what do you have to say about the video?"

"I—" Mal begins, but her breathing is too quick and shallow to answer. "I—"

Ben stands from the bench and takes a few steps, until he makes it past the small, wooden gate. "Order," the judge pounds his gavel. "Get back to your seat."

"Your Honor," Mr. Droit reasons. "If anyone can calm her down, it's him."

The judge grumbles, "You have a minute." and then Ben hurries over to Mal. "Better not waste it."

He takes her hand, guiding her down from the stand to his level. "What," she starts.

"Shh," he hushes. "I have an idea." He hugs her and whispers into her ear, "Listen for my heartbeat."

"Ben," she doubts.

"Just try it," he pleads. "Please." He glances around the quiet room. Normally doing something that's probably so weird around prying eyes would bother him, but he knows the quietness should also make this easier for her. It takes a couple moments, but when he hears her breathing quieten he questions, "Can you hear it?"

"Yes."

He slightly nods before softly replying, "Below that noise there should be a quieter sound: slow, rushing blood, like stream water." He silences as she listens for it, and after a minute he can feel her breathing lengthen. He waits for it to steady before letting go of her, and when he does her eyes no longer glow. "You're okay," he reassures as he holds her hands. "So long as I'm here, you're in no danger."

"How," Mal begins to question.

"The defendant will retake the stand," the judge interrupts.

Mal slowly steps back onto the podium, Ben letting go of her hand as she sits. He's given some curious looks as he makes his way back to his seat, and when he sits down Evie comments, "You didn't even kiss her."

"No," Ben frowns in response.

Evie slightly shakes her head, "Then how did you do it? What did you do?"

Ben stares forward, before he gestures, "We should be paying attention to this."

"The video is filled with people who hate me," Mal informs. "They're biased."

"So, you're saying then," the black haired lawyer comments, "that nothing in the video is true, then?"

"No," Mal uneasily answers. "On the island we're taught how to twist the truth to fit our means. That's all they were doing. It's not as bad as it seems."

"So, you never sold drugs?" he questions.

"No. I did," Mal starts.

"But you didn't try to get your coworker fired?" he continues.

"That wasn't my objective," she quickly answers.

"But is it not true that you had sex with him?"

"This isn't fair," Mal yells. _Life isn't fair, girlie_. She hears her mother's voice and then places a hand to her head, as she attempts a calming breath. "It wasn't my idea to have sex with him. It was his."

"Then why does he think it was yours?" the lawyer interrogates.

Mal slightly shakes her head, "We were making out. I took his shirt off to get more heat." before she makes a fist and pounds her pinky's knuckle onto the wood. "He must have misread it as some signal for wanting sex."

"But even though it wasn't your idea," the lawyer continues, "you went through with it?"

"Yes," Mal softly answers as she partially rolls her eyes.

"And you liked it, didn't you?" he accuses. "It was a good way for you to get heat."

"No," Mal frowns. "I didn't like it."

"But it made you feel something," he insists. "What did it make you feel?"

Mal looks up as she remembers the point at which she knew she had lost her chance to escape. After Hook had pulled down her pants and underwear and had crawled over them to get into position, she had just stared up into the night sky. She stared up at the black sky and purple, swirling clouds, just focusing on them in hopes that it would minimize what she could feel happening to her. "Distant," Mal keeps her eyes open to prevent tears. "I felt distant."

* * *

Mal lets out a long, slow breath, hands on either side of her forehead, before the door opens and she looks up and sees Ben. She drops her arms down in front of her, "Where's the lawyer?"

Ben shuts the door behind him, "I convinced him to give us a few minutes alone."

She slightly shakes her head, "No offense, Ben, but I really don't feel like kissing anyone right now."

"Then don't," he firmly comments, before he sits down in the chair across from her and stretches his arms outward, wrists up.

Mal quietly places her wrists in his hands before wrapping her hands around his, "I see you've been talking with Jay."

"I have been. A little," Ben admits. "But actually, my mother told me about this."

Mal remembers the time Belle had offered her heat in jail, before she tiredly responds, "Right. I forgot about that."

It's quiet for a minute, before Ben comments, "Mal." She looks up at him, "I need to know." but then she looks away again. "What happened with Hook—" He feels her grip tighten at the name. "What happened, did you not want it too?" She doesn't look at him, and he shakes his head, "No. Of course, you didn't. That was a stupid question. What I mean is…" He trails off, and she looks up at him again. His mouth is open a moment before he speaks, "Was it not part of some agreement? Did he force you to do it?"

Mal sadly laughs, "No. Of course, not. I'm just some floozy who would do anything for heat." before she looks down. "Or, at least, that's what he told everybody." She hears Ben sigh and looks up at him. "Do I disgust you?"

He makes a noise, "No." before he slides his hands down to hers and squeezes them. "Mal." He wets his lips, "What happened, it wasn't your fault."

"I didn't scream," she lets him know. "I didn't call for help. I didn't do anything."

Ben looks down for a second, before he calmly informs, "Statistics show that males are far less likely to report sexual assault. It's very much a societal problem. Guys are told they have to be strong, just like on the island you had to be strong to survive. You had a reputation to uphold. Being caught in what would be seen as an embarrassing situation, one that may have made you appear weak, I can understand why you didn't call for help."

Mal is quiet for a moment, "When he said I told everyone about it, I didn't tell everyone. I told one person. I told Uma… After he was able to convince her I lied, we got into an argument. It caused a scene. That's how I told everyone. What he said was true…"

"And yet it wasn't," Ben finishes.

Mal thinks for a second, "He thought I was being shy. I guess, maybe, if he really thought I had asked for sex beforehand, when I said no maybe he just thought I was getting cold feet."

"It doesn't matter," Ben comments. "When someone says no, you stop. It doesn't matter if you got consent the week before or even a minute beforehand. Consent is in the moment." Mal stays quiet. "On a side note, people can't legally consent when they're under the influence of alcohol or drugs." He sees her about to defend herself, "Just something that you may or may not need to know for the future."

She shuts her mouth but then asks, "What do you think about this? Honestly."

"Honestly?" Ben lets out a breath. "This is going to sound horrible, but I was just really hoping that the signs I saw, that they were just symptoms from the other abuses you've suffered. Like from your mother, for example. I—" He shakes his head, "I was just really hoping that this guy who had wronged you, who you wanted to kill, I was really hoping that he hadn't actually done anything that terribly terrible to you."

Mal glances down, "Yeah. Me too." and after another moment she looks back up at him. "When I was freaking out, how did you know that would calm me down? How did you know it was even possible at all?" She gives him a look, "What? Is it psychology or something?"

Ben almost laughs, "No. I would never risk something like a placebo on you." He looks down at their hands and moves them back to where they had been before, "When I was little I had these nightmares. Probably from all of the beast insignias around the castle." He looks up at her, "When I woke up I would go find my mom, and I would lie next to her, my head on her shoulder." He hesitates, "As I laid next to her, I was able to hear her heart beat, the blood flowing through her body, and she had this scent about her." He looks down from Mal's tentative expression and lifts an eyebrow. "It was all very comforting at the time."

"And now?" Mal questions.

"And now?" He looks up again, "I would probably be too afraid to admit that to her."

"She doesn't know?"

"No," Ben frowns. "You know, I was just some kid looking to his mom for comfort. Nothing odd about that." He shifts his head, "Or so one would think."

It takes Mal a second to question, "Do you still know what her scent is like? Can you still smell it when she's around?"

"I try not to," Ben uncomfortably answers. "I'm a teenager now, and a son knowing what his mother smells like... it's weird. Isn't it?"

Mal unsurely shrugs, "I wouldn't know." and Ben stays quiet. "Is it like perfume or like an actual scent?"

"It stays the same," Ben thinks, "so likely the second one." Mal nods. "She smells like melon. Cantaloupe." He shuts his eyes for a second as he recalls the smell, "Fresh. Juicy." but at that last word he shuts his eyes tighter and shakes his head fast before placing a hand to his forehead. He cracks his eyes open and then apologizes, "Bad thoughts."

Mal lets out breath, "You know, it's okay to have bad thoughts. Everyone does." as she offers an unsure expression. "It's just that if you have any moral code, then you don't step over that line you've marked for yourself."

"You don't even know what the thought was," Ben complains.

Mal gives a look, "First off, I don't have to, because you consider it a bad thought and that's what matters." but then she sees him look down in shame. "You like the way she smells and you think you shouldn't, but that's all. It's not like you think about her sexually. Right?"

"No. Of course, not," Ben cringes before turning his head back up. "But still. Comparing my mother to a food, it's messed up. Completely disgusting."

"You can't help what she smells like," Mal tries to reason, but he doesn't speak, clearly caught up in his own mind. "Maybe," she slowly suggests, "if you eat some real cantaloupe, then you won't get caught up in her scent as much."

"Tried that," Ben frowns, looking away for a second in annoyance. "But it never tasted as good as I imagined it being." He slightly shakes his head, "Plus. Eating something that reminds me of my mother is probably just a really bad thing waiting to happen. No. I've already decided. I'm never going to eat that fruit again."

Mal's quiet for a moment, before she whispers, "Sorry." unsure of what else to say.

"It's fine." Ben comments, "I'm good at ignoring it. It's just— Geeze. This isn't working." before he lets go of her wrists. "You're still cold, and we're running out of time."

"It's fine," she negates.

"No. It isn't," he stresses. "Nothing about any of this is fine."

When he stands from the table Mal questions, "Where are you going?"

He opens the door, "I love you. I'll talk with you tomorrow." before he exists and strides over to Evie. "Hey."

She cautiously observes him, "Hey."

"So, we've got a situation," he quickly explains. "Mal is cold, she doesn't feel like kissing me right now, and the wrist thing isn't working." He gestures with stress, "Maybe you could try giving her a hug or something?"

"Yeah?" Evie suspiciously questions.

"Yeah," Ben repeats before moving to give her a pat on the back. "Go."

Evie turns around, "Just so you know, you're being ultra-weird right now." before she takes a step back and heads for the room.

After she goes Ben hears his name and turns around. His mother comments, "Your father and I need to talk to you. Why don't you sit down?"

"Can't." He excuses, "I have to use the bathroom." before he heads off.

When Evie enters the room she asks, "How are you?"

Mal slightly narrows her eyes, "I think I stressed Ben out."

Evie smiles, "It's not you. This trial is stressing everyone out."

She chuckles, "Yeah. You're telling me." before she shakes her head. "I swear, when this whole thing is done I'm going down to the liquor store I saw and getting a bottle. Maybe two."

Evie frowns, "You know I'm going to have to tell Jay about that, right?"

Mal huffs, "Doesn't matter. With the way this trial is going, I'll be dead anyway."

"Don't even joke about that."

"I'm not," Mal grimly informs. "I barely survived a week in jail. It only makes sense that I will die when I'm sentenced who knows where for who knows how long."

"If," Evie corrects, and when Mal doesn't speak she takes the chair and places it next to hers.

Mal sighs, "What are you doing?"

Evie sits down and wraps her arms around her, one hand on Mal's neck, "I was given orders to do this." before she moves in and kisses her neck.

"And what about that?" Mal partially smiles. "Did you get permission for that?"

"Well," Evie slowly lets out. "He said 'or something', so." She uses a hand to turn Mal's head before kissing her.

She pulls away, "Surely, Ben said I didn't feel like being kissed right now."

"Come on," Evie entices. "If you're really going to die, then don't you want to get the chance to kiss us before you do?" Mal lets out an irritable breath, before Evie leans in again. She moves her spare hand to Mal's hip too, sliding it under the shirt, but then she glimpses Mal's eyes glow and backs off. "Or not." She waits for her to settle some. "What's going on with you today? Is it Hook?"

Mal shuts her eyes, "I really don't want to talk about him."

"I know he lied," Evie tries to reassure. "You don't have to get defensive with me."

"I'm not getting defensive," Mal denies.

"Well, you're not being very open either," Evie combats, and then Mal quietens. "Come on. Tell me what's bothering you."

Mal furrows her eyebrows, "Maybe what's bothering me is that neither you or Ben can seem to go one day without wanting some stupid kiss."

"It's how you've been getting heat," she reminds her. "We're just worried about you."

"So, it's not just because you want me?" Mal accuses.

Evie's quiet for a moment, "Everyone has ulterior motives, Mal, but I care about you. I wouldn't do anything like that if I thought it was hurting you."

"How can I know that?" she frustrates.

"I pulled back. Didn't I?" Evie points out, and Mal silences. She watches her try to calm her breathing. "I'm not Hook, Mal. I'm not him."

Mal stares at her for a second, "What do you mean, you're not him?"

Evie takes a minute to speak, "I wouldn't put my wants above your needs. I care too much about you for that." Mal stays quiet. "Please." She places her hands on her neck, "Have me. If you don't, then you will be even colder tomorrow, and then…" Evie gives her a sad look, "It's clear that kissing alone isn't enough for you. It's only just barely been keeping you warm, and who knows when you will be able to have me or Ben like you normally do."

"Evie. It's fine," Mal unconvincingly defends. "I don't need to take someone's shirt off to get warm. Kissing is enough."

"Only if you're doing it," Evie notes. "You have to do it for it to be enough."

"I'm sorry," Mal softly speaks. "I really don't feel like it right now."

She sees Evie's eyes glisten, before she's given a long hug and Evie whispers, "I love you."

"Are you allowed to say that?" Mal unsurely comments.

"I don't care if I am or not," Evie admits, "'Cause I do."

She stays quiet for a couple seconds, "You know I can't say it back?"

"I know," Evie whispers. "But I don't care. Because, I know you care."

Mal places a hand on Evie's back, feeling the long, cascading waves, "You should know, I'm still very happy to have you, even though I have Ben now too."

Evie gives in to a small smile, "Good."

* * *

\- Thank you for all the comments. They're great. (By the way, I must say I'm sorry. These longer chapters take longer to write and therefore post. I don't like to keep people in unnecessary anticipation, but I don't want to be terribly sloppy either.)


	94. Answers

**Answers**

 **(Day 59: Tuesday Noon)**

"Are you doing drugs?" he accuses.

"Dad," Ben exasperates as they sit at the dining table.

"It's a valid question," his mother interrupts, and Ben looks at her in disbelief. "Her previous boyfriend said that her partners used it to counter that… issue of hers."

"He's not her boyfriend," Ben shuts his eyes. "Not her ex."

"Whatever you want to call it," she reasons, "he still said it, and she confirmed it."

Ben squeezes a hand tight in stress before opening it and slowly cutting the air with it, "Is this even a question." before he darts his eyes between his parents. "I already overdose on everyday medicine every single day. I would have to be a complete idiot to add anything else into the mix. Even something as simple as wine is something I need to be careful of." He looks between his parents again, but neither of them speaks. "As far as Mal's so-called issue goes, I didn't even know about it until recently."

"But you have done things with her?" his father slowly assumes.

Ben nearly rolls his eyes, "Yes. We've made out, but I don't use drugs." before he furrows his eyebrows. "Not that kind anyway." He slowly shakes his head, "She's just a little rough, I guess? It doesn't hurt or anything, but she must have wanted me to feel something."

"Rough?" he raises his eyebrows and squints his eyes in unsureness.

"Not in a bad way," Ben comments as he places a hand to his head. "Are we done talking about my sex life now or do you have more questions?"

"Are you having sex?" his mother probes.

"No," he shuts his eyes for a second. "I was just referring to sexual activity in general. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not share every single detail with my parents."

After a moment his father says, "Fair enough."

"You will tell us when you start having sex, though?" his mother seriously replies.

Ben huffs, "Yeah. Sure. One day when I come over for dinner or come down to breakfast I will say that I fucked my girlfriend out of the blue without any rhyme or reason."

"That's all we ask," she comments before nodding. "Speaking of your girlfriend." She uneasily continues, "We never really discussed her relationship with her friend." Ben lifts his head up in attentiveness. "They aren't still together, are they? Or, do you not know?"

Ben's quiet for a minute, before he states, "They can't be together if they were never together in the first place." He sees his father about to speak. "They're best friends. That's all they've ever claimed to be— even on the Isle."

"And how could you know that?" his father frustrates. "By simply taking her word for it?"

Ben lifts a hand up, "Well, yeah." He hears his father grumble. "Look. This isn't some secret that's been hidden from me. I've asked questions. I got answers. And you know what? I will be asking more questions and getting more answers. Can't you just trust me?" He looks away for a mere second, "And them?"

His mother looks at her watch, "It's almost been an hour."

"Right," Ben's father straightens up before staring him down. "You know that I'm not the most fond of your girlfriend, but her reputation is yours now. What happened today, you need to do damage control, set up an interview."

"What happened to not saying anything that could potentially conflict with the case?" Ben asks in confusion.

"Your reputation is more important," he insists. "A man is nothing without it."

"Fine," Ben says. "I'll make the call later."

"No. Now," his father firmly asserts.

When Ben sighs his mother calmly responds, "Your father is right. They're not going to hold the story unless they think they have something better to add to it."

"Okay," he accepts before standing from the table.

"Hold on," his mother interrupts, and he turns back to her. "You haven't eaten yet."

Ben glances down at his bowl of soup and the platter of sandwiches, "Well, which is it? Do you want me to call before they do the story or do you want me to eat lunch?"

"You can do both," his mother affirms, before she nods down towards his chair. "Sit."

Ben lets out an annoyed breath, before he sits and brings the bowl to his lips, and after five gulps he sets it back down. He looks pointedly at his mom, "There. Done." before he stands from the table again.

"Take a sandwich with you," she commands.

He picks up a turkey one and takes a bite, "Happy?"

"Yes," she frowns, before she watches him turn to leave. She lets out a long breath, "Why can't he just take a single minute to enjoy it?"

Adam is silent for a moment, "It's just food." and then she gives him a look. "If it bothers you, then next time give him a rare steak. He's never had any problem sitting down to one of those."

"A rare steak?" she skeptically questions.

"Maybe with some cheesy smashed potatoes for a vegetable," he compromises. "He likes those too."

"When has he ever had a rare steak?" she disbelieves.

"At a restaurant."

"And you took him there," she assumes, and then he silences. "I told you not to do that."

"Belle. He isn't a dog. It's not like he's going to go rabid from getting a little more iron in his diet."

"That's not the point here," she insists. "I told you not to do it, I put forth my concerns, and you went against my back and did it anyway." She shakes her head, "Honestly. How long has this been going on for?"

Adam breathes, "Come on. You can't just deprive the boy of one of the best things life has to offer."

"There was a time when you thought hunting was the best thing in life," she sternly reminds him.

"Before I met you," he wraps an arm around her and she lets out a calming breath. "You're the best thing in my life now." He kisses her forehead, "And I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world."

"How long," she tiredly asks again.

"Since he was young," Adam confesses. "Around six."

She sighs, "I really wish you hadn't done that."

"Look. It's fine," he tries to reason. "If anything bad was going to happen, it would have already happened. But Ben is fine. Everything's going to be okay."

She's quiet for a moment, "I hope you're right."

* * *

"Hey," Ben says as Evie opens the door. "I've been wanting to speak with you all afternoon. May I come in?"

"I was kind of working on something," she slowly responds.

"Please," Ben calmly pleads. "I have an interview at six, and I need us to clarify some things. If I don't have the right answers, then it could make us all look bad."

She lets out a breath, "You don't make things easy. You know that?"

He smiles, "Is that a yes?"

She half laughs, "Yes, it's a yes." before she opens the door and lets him in. "So. What's your first question?"

"We should sit somewhere," he suggests.

Evie nods to the bed, "There."

After they sit down Ben states, "In the video Hook said that you and Mal were girlfriends, but you said you never used that term."

"Because we never did," Evie immediately answers.

"Good," Ben nods. "That's what I thought."

"And just so you know," Evie frowns, "we've never had sex either. I didn't lie on the stand. Everything I said was true."

"Even the part where you have feelings for her?" Ben questions.

Evie's mouth slightly gapes as she looks off for a moment, "I don't think I said—"

"It was self-explanatory," Ben interrupts, "especially with your—"

She shakes her head, "My what?"

"Your mother," Ben finishes. "She made it loud and clear." He glances down, "For everyone." He looks back up and sees her troubled expression, "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have brought her up."

Evie's quiet for another second, "She was there for me, you know." as she observes Ben's reaction. "Whenever Mal was being callous and defensive… It wasn't all the time, and it was my fault for getting attached. I know that. But still." She looks back up to see Ben's reaction, but his expression is relatively even. "I would cry, and my mother would be there to tell me it would be okay. She would hug me and say I didn't need Mal, that I had her." Evie almost laughs, "I know she was probably just acting nice, because she thought it would help end things between Mal and me, that my chances of getting a boyfriend would be better, but…" Ben still doesn't speak. "I know you must think that my mother was just some horrible, wicked witch, but it wasn't that bad. I know you think she didn't love me, but she did."

Ben frowns, "No. I know she does." but then he sees her slouch and look down in doubt of that fact herself. She's had to defend her mother countless times, but now that someone agrees with her it's like a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Parents can hurt their children, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and still love them."

Evie looks back up at him, her eyes glistening, "She thought she was doing what was best for me. She only ever wanted what was best for me."

"I know," Ben softly responds, before he continues in hesitance. "What would she do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Mostly," Evie breaths, "she would lock me in the bathroom." She stops the cry with a high-pitched hum, "And it was fine. I was allowed a basket of clothes, and my makeup, and some magazines— she always expected me to come out just as perfect as when I would be guided inside— and I would sneak other things in too. Like a dictionary or encyclopedia." She sadly smiles, "She would have hated to know I owned those things." before she feels the tears are full, about to fall over her bottom eyelids, and places a finger under one of them. "It was cold— so cold— and there was no way to tell time. No windows. No clocks." She heaves, "And absolutely no one to talk to."

Ben places one hand on her shoulder and the other around her back, before he feels her sob, "Hey. It's okay."

After a minute Evie gets a grip of herself and pulls away, "I don't know why I'm crying." as she wipes the smudged makeup with the corner of her sleeve. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, it feels like a lot now, but at the time…" She shuts her dark brown eyes and gulps.

"It was normal," Ben finishes, and when she looks up at him in awe he excuses, "Jay and Carlos may have said that when they first arrived and the guys were asking them questions."

"Of course," Evie whispers, before she attempts to straighten up. "I'm such a horrible person." She half laughs, "We were talking about me and your girlfriend, and somehow now you were comforting me. How?" She slightly shakes her head, "What's your motive?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, before he slowly answers, "I'm not really sure that I have a motive. It's just..." He wets his lips, "I know that you've been through a lot, and someone has to be there for you." He pauses, "I know this trial can't have been any easier on you than me."

Evie partially grins, "Well. You've got that right." as she rolls her eyes. "I was measuring a girl for a dress yesterday, and she actually accused me of looking up her skirt." She gives Ben a look, "For the record, I didn't."

"I didn't think you did," he calmly responds, but then she looks away. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"Which part? The part where my mom would lock me in the bathroom for a week or the part where I was accused of being a skirt-chaser?"

"All of it," Ben answers, and then she looks back at him. "You're not quite what I expected when I first met you."

"Well, seeing as I was flirting with you at the time," Evie remarks, "I can see why."

"No. I— I just mean, I thought you would be like some bad girl looking for attention and some rule to break." He gestures, "Okay. Yeah, and promiscuous, but—" He pauses, "But you're not like that. You're smart, and you're dedicated to those you care about." Evie doesn't speak. "Just out of curiosity." Ben hesitates, "Do you like me like that? Like, are you attracted to me?"

Evie sternly looks at him, "You dare ask that?"

"Like you said," Ben awkwardly smiles, "you were flirting with me that first day."

"You're my best friend's boyfriend," she stresses. "You can't just go off and cheat on her with some other girl."

"I wasn't," Ben tries to explain.

"Or maybe," she stares, "you thought that if you could get me close, then when Mal returns she could see us kiss and hate me so that you could have her all to yourself, when in reality she'd probably never speak to either of us ever again."

"You honestly think I would do that?" Ben slowly questions, and then Evie's expression softens in unsureness, as she sees his sad, puppy dog look. "I'm not manipulative— or cunning. I just like to have answers. I'm curious, get that from my mother." He sighs and slightly shakes his head, "I don't know. Maybe that's a bad thing… It's certainly never helped."

"No." She watches as he looks back up at her, "Sorry. I should have known you would be too good to do something like that." before she glances down. "And no. To satisfy your curiosity, I don't find you attractive." She looks at him, "Cute, maybe, but not like that."

"Then why flirt with me?"

Evie frowns, "Because I'm expected to marry a prince, and I knew you had a castle that would undoubtedly be filled with tons of mirrors."

"Not so many, actually," Ben remarks. "Most of the mirrors have been, uh, displaced over the years." She doesn't speak. "So, why don't you have a boyfriend? I mean, you do want one, don't you?"

"Well, I had Chad for a second," Evie answers, "but he was just using me. I didn't even get a single kiss out of him."

"Is there anyone else you like?"

Evie gives him a look, "Are you asking for your curiosity or are you asking for Doug?"

"Mostly my curiosity," Ben states, "but yeah. Doug too."

She's quiet for a second, "As far as Doug goes, he's sweet, and smart, and kind. If being a prince wasn't a requirement, then I probably would be dating him already." and then she pauses. "Can your curiosity keep a secret?"

Ben almost smiles, "If I had to choose between not knowing an answer I know I could have had or having that answer and not giving out that knowledge, I would rather know."

Evie nods, before she informs, "I've never liked a guy before. Not like that."

"Never?" he doubts.

"I know," Evie half laughs. "I'm at a school where some of the hottest guys in the world must be attending… and I don't want any of them." She sadly grins, "I must be broken, right?"

"No," Ben shakes his head. "You said Chad—"

"I didn't like Chad," she insists. "Just like I didn't like you."

There's silence as Ben thinks, "Maybe it's just because you like Mal. You can't think of anyone else, because you're still dedicated and loyal to her."

After a moment Evie skeptically breaths, "Maybe." before she shakes her head. "You came in here for a reason."

"Yes," Ben immediately answers, before he hesitates, "Where were we?"

"You were asking about me and Mal," Evie frowns.

"Right," Ben remembers, but it takes a minute for him to speak. "Look." He sighs, "I don't know what exactly you and Mal have been doing— because I can only assume you two have been doing something— and I'm not sure I even want to know, but…" He looks her in the eyes, "She's my girlfriend. You understand that? I don't want her cheating on me."

"Okay. And," she slowly questions, "what counts as cheating?"

Ben huffs a laugh, "That's a good question." as he turns away for a moment in thought. "Just don't do anything romantic, okay?" He looks back at her with folded hands, "Like no cuddling, especially overnight or for long. I'm her boyfriend. If she wants romance or someone to be close with and to comfort her, then it should me. I don't want her going to you for everything. I need her to come to me when she needs things too." He pauses, "Also. If you're not currently having sex with her, I would please ask that you continue not to do that."

"I understand," Evie evenly responds, but as Ben turns in relief she cracks a slight smile. "I would like to remind you, though, that the last time Mal spent the night with you she ran off."

Ben's quiet as he thinks, "She had a nightmare or something. I can't help that." but then Evie raises an eyebrow. "What? You think it's my fault she left?"

"No," she slowly says. "I'm just saying that Mal's never taken off on me in the middle of the night before." She smiles, "And we were never even together."

"So, what then?" Ben breathes in stress. "What would you have me do? Not have her sleep next to me, never have her stay the night?"

Evie frowns, "Don't get like that. The solution is simple."

Ben slightly lifts his hands, "Well. What is it?"

"You can't be the one holding her. You have to let her hold you."

He slightly shakes his head, "How is that going to help?"

"It gives her control over the situation," Evie reasons. "If she's holding you, then she's the one in power. She's the one that gets to say how long you're holding each other and when to stop. She's not going to lose you, and she won't be taken advantage of." She sees Ben's mouth gape slightly as his eyes lower, "Too much for you?"

"No. It's just…" He's silent as he observes her for second, "As Mal's best friend and long-term heat source—" He lifts the side of his fist to his mouth, "You should probably know." before he drops it. "When she had—" he wets his lips "— intercourse with Hook, she didn't want to." Evie doesn't speak. "He forced her too."

She looks down, "I know." and just as Ben opens his mouth to speak, she stands and walks over towards Mal's bedside table. "I found these after she was taken. I was just trying to clean up a little, ya know." He watches as she takes the sketchbook from the drawer and walks back towards him. "They're not graphic, but…"

After Evie opens it to the back and reveals the loose pages to Ben, he takes it from her and glances over the drawings: a couple of Hook's face up close, some of the crates that had surrounded her that night with the sky above, and a few other ones of the metal hook. "They're obvious," Ben finishes, before he sets them aside. He stares at Evie for a moment and whispers, "Were you planning to tell me?"

"Mal doesn't even know I know," Evie softly responds.

"You should have told me," Ben quietly insists.

"And if you had been one of those guys that would have dumped and then slut-shamed her, what then?" Evie objects.

"You should know me better than that."

"How?" Evie questions. "The only times we ever talk is when we're talking about Mal or when you're stealing the cookies I make straight from the oven."

"That was one time," Ben defends.

"Still," Evie persists. "I only know you through Mal. We never actually talk to each other. We never just sit and chat. So, how could I possibly know what kind of guy you are?"

Ben's quiet for a minute, before he sheepishly smiles, "We're talking now."

Evie lets out a calming breath, "Yeah." before she looks over him. "I guess we are."


	95. As Much as They Please

**As Much as They Please**

 **(Day 59: Tuesday Evening)**

"I'm sitting with King Ben, who has finally decided to speak up about the sexual assault case against his girlfriend Mal Bertha." The blond smiles at him, "I'm glad you're here tonight."

"Thank you, Lyla," Ben smiles back as he sits in the beige armchair, before he nods once. "I'm glad to be here."

"Tomorrow will be the third day of your girlfriend's trial," she states. "How are you feeling about the way things have gone so far?"

Ben tries to keep his smile, "It's certainly been a challenge to confirm Mal's innocence. I have no doubt that the video shown today has brought up a lot of questions and assumptions."

"Do you have anything to say about the video?"

He shifts in his seat, "Yes. I have a lot to say, actually. Do you mind if I examine it issue by issue?"

She gestures, "No. Go right ahead."

"Thank you," Ben says again, and he pauses before continuing. "Let's start off with something simple: Mal's old job." He folds his hands, "The video and the trial itself may not have made it very clear, but when Mal was stated to have sold drugs and… influence the customers to stay, that was just part of her job. Harry Hook and Uma, the daughter of Ursula, are part of an influential gang, which Mal was offered to work for after she had met Harry Hook and was shown that attraction they claim is a restraint. If anything, it's one of those bars, really."

"Are you saying your girlfriend was part of a gang?" Lyla frowns with interest.

Ben pauses as he wets his lips, "What I'm saying is that Mal didn't sell drugs or seduce customers because she wanted to. Primarily, she did it because it was her job at the time."

"But she seduced the customers even before she got the job. Isn't that what this Harry Hook claimed?"

"It's possible that Mal did try to obtain heat from a customer once and that's how she got the job," Ben accepts, "but the idea that she did it regularly can only be contributed to the fact that it was part of her job after she'd been brought on."

"What about the allegations of her trying to get her boyfriend fired?" she brings up.

Ben frowns, glancing down for a second, "Harry Hook is a topic in of himself, and first, I must say, he was not her boyfriend. He was her primary heat source of the time, nothing more."

"Are you sure about that?" the host questions. "She seemed rather upset about him."

"She has other reasons to be upset with him," Ben insists. "The fact of the matter is that she trusted him with her life, and he took advantage of her. Trust in him," he flusters. "He betrayed her. That's why she's upset with him."

"But she had sex with him," she retorts. "Are you saying that is irrelevant to whether or not they were involved?"

"No," Ben objects. "If he was her primary heat source, then of course they were involved. But they weren't dating," Ben stresses. "They weren't together in the way you or I would think of it. They were only involved physically." He shifts his head, "And as far as the intercourse goes, like Mal said on the stand, she only did it because he wanted her to." He slightly lifts a hand, "That's the whole reason why she went to her employer in the first place. It wasn't about getting Hook fired. She just didn't want to find herself in a position again where someone could influence her to do something she wasn't a hundred percent sure she wanted to do."

There's silence for a long moment, before the woman asks, "What about you? Do you think Harry Hook should have been fired for his misconduct in this influential gang?"

"Well, if you're referring to the sexual misconduct in general, then you know how things typically work here. However, if you are referring to my personal opinions on what should have happened to Hook…" He slowly comments, "I have no words for what would constitute punishment for the betrayal he caused my girlfriend." He lifts a hand, "Mal wouldn't agree with me here, but I say any punishment would be futile, because the damage has already been done."

The reporter nods, "Is there anything else you would like to say?"

He's quiet for a moment, "Everyone is probably wondering about Mal's relationship with her best friend, whether they ever actually dated as Hook proclaimed."

She smiles, "Yes. What do you have to say about that?"

Ben takes a second to think, "I should first say that they have never claimed to be anything other than just friends or best friends, and according to both of them they never used the term girlfriend or the like even on the Isle of the Lost." When the interviewer doesn't respond he continues, "It is known that Evie has been Mal's main heat source over the last few years, but just because they have had that interaction with each other, it doesn't mean they were ever anything more."

"But Harry Hook said your girlfriend and Evie were exclusive. That makes it different than what she had with him, doesn't it?"

"It's about trust," Ben easily responds. "After Hook's betrayal, I can only imagine how distrusting Mal must have been since then. It wouldn't surprise me that if she already had a heat source of whom she trusted that she wouldn't risk looking for someone else as well."

"He also said that it would be hard for your girlfriend to be exclusive, because of her heat situation." Ben looks down. "What is your response to that?"

He looks back up, "I say that my girlfriend cares about me and that she knows how I feel about cheating." He lifts his thumbs. "Keeping that in mind, she does have an atypical need that has to be taken care of, and I have implemented measures to make sure she can get what she needs even if I'm not there to provide it to her."

"Can you clarify that?" the woman inquires as she scoots to the edge of her seat.

"She has a heat lamp now, which should help her at least a little. For when it doesn't, I have also spoken with Evie and set a couple ground rules for when she does offer Mal heat."

"You're allowing this girl to give heat to your girlfriend?" her mouth gapes in disbelief. "Aren't you worried about having one of Mal's past," she lifts hands, "involvements giving her heat like that?"

"Look." Ben wets his lips, "Evie is Mal's best friend. If there comes a time when Mal needs someone, then Evie will offer her help. And I can respect that." He pauses. "As far as any worry of what may or may not happen between the two of them, that's what communication and rules are for."

"But she does have an attraction to her?" the reporter insists.

"Perhaps," Ben slightly nods. "But I'm not worried. Evie told me herself, I make Mal happy and she would never want to take that away from her. That means she's not going to risk anything romantic or overly sexual that could potentially cause me to break up with Mal." She doesn't speak, so he continues, a hint of a smile making it to his face, "Evie's been Mal's heat source for a long time now, and Mal trusts her. I know no one more qualified to take care of my girlfriend if I am unable to see to her needs myself." He laughs, "And honestly. I am so much more comfortable with setting terms with Evie, rather than having Mal find herself in a desperate situation again and cheating on me with someone who's just there and willing of whom she may not even know. It's safer and more respectable this way. For everyone."

"So, you have no concern at all about your girlfriend and Evie?"

"No," Ben confidently states. "And neither should you. What you should be worried about is how Audrey's legal team was able to interview the people from the island in the first place, because I know my family didn't authorize any visits there. Which only leaves three options: one, they used magic to get past the barrier; two, they snuck onto a shipment heading there; or three, they stole my family's car. All of these actions are illegal, which means that video was illegally obtained." He sits straighter, "But because of my respect for Audrey and the fact that she may not have known this herself, I am willing to look past it."

The reporter stills with shock, before she slowly comments, "That is very interesting— and knowledgeable— information." as she brings her hand to her earpiece. "I have word that we've been getting a lot of call-ins. How do you feel about answering your people's questions on live television?"

Ben attempts to smile, "Let's do it." and it's not a minute later that the first caller can be heard through the sound system.

"You say you have respect for Princess Audrey, but how can you if you're still going against her in this trial?"

He clasps his hands together, "Well, ma'am, I can still respect Princess Audrey as a fellow royal, even if I am backing my own girlfriend in this trial. The fact is Mal is innocent until proven guilty, and Audrey has a lot less to lose if her side doesn't win."

"Your girlfriend isn't innocent. There's an entire video to prove it!"

"And that video makes her look bad," Ben admits, "but it doesn't show the context of the situation. Also, the video shows no actual crime being committed. All it shows a one girl getting upset with another girl and maybe, just maybe, about to do something regrettable. However, it in no way definitively proves Mal to be guilty of any crime."

"You're a political hack. You know that?" the woman angrily accuses.

"You can think that if you wish," Ben calmly comments. "You are completely welcome to your own opinions on this matter."

There's a pause, "I know one thing for sure. That monster you call a girlfriend is never going to lay a hand on my daughters."

Ben squints his eyes as he lifts a hand, "What would my girlfriend ever want with your daughters?" but there's no response.

"She ended the call," Lyla informs. "Ready for the next one?"

Ben nods, and then he hears the man speak, "Are you spelled. Did that witch put a spell on you?"

"Mal's not a witch," Ben slowly replies. "Witches can't even do magic. What my girlfriend is is a hybrid of fairy and dragon ancestry."

"Did she spell you?" he questions again.

Ben grins, "My girlfriend has never casted a spell on me. Neither as she ever used her hypnotism on me. I am supporting her out of my own free will."

"Then go to Hell," the man yells, before the call drops.

Ben frowns as Lyla uneasily smiles, "Let's just move onto the next one, shall we?"

After Ben nods another man is heard, "You're a terrible king. If you think you, or your girlfriend, or anyone is above the law, then you should give the job to someone else."

He's silent for a moment, "I realize you're upset and that this trial has been very hard on a number of people, but I assure you: I do not think anyone is above the law."

"Then why haven't you banished your girlfriend back to that prison?" Ben can hear the man is hurt, holding back tears. "She's going to ruin everything that your family built. You have to stop her."

"She hasn't done anything wrong," Ben insists, before he sighs. "At least nothing more than anyone else has done." He lifts his head, "Back when I was on my school's tourney team I pushed a friend of mine down onto a bench. Do you think I deserve banishment?"

The man huffs, "You should kill yourself."

"I'm sorry," Ben raises his eyebrows, "but I'm too busy to do that right now. Do you have any other requests?"

"Yeah." He yells, "How about you stop being so careless and start taking your job seriously?"

Ben feels his temperature rise as he narrows his eyes, "Believe it or not, I am taking my job seriously. I'm taking all of this very seriously, in fact."

"No," the man counters. "If you did, then you would have accepted your girlfriend's guilt by now and she'd be in prison."

"If she goes to prison," Ben nearly yells, "then she will die." The man doesn't speak, as Ben rests his elbow on his knee and places a hand to his forehead. He feels his eyes gloss over, before he softly speaks, "And I'm not sending her back to the Isle either. I may have never been there, but even I know it's the embodiment of Hell." He lets out a shaky breath before looking up again. "She deserves a chance at a life where she doesn't need to do unspeakable things to survive. She deserves to have the opportunity to do more than just survive."

"She had that chance," the man evenly responds. "She wasted it."

Ben doesn't speak, only gulping, knowing that if he did speak his voice would only be either an inaudible whisper or an incomprehensible crackle. The interviewer comments, "I think that's enough calls for today." before she observes Ben for a moment. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's not your fault," Ben manages, before he half laughs. "I've been left hundreds of messages like that since Mal had the confrontation with Audrey."

"Not people telling you to go to Hell or kill yourself?" she disbelieves.

"No," Ben softly responds. "Exactly like that. Most people just tell me to resign… but still. My words don't mean anything. My actions have already made up their minds."

"But you're just a kid," she breathes.

"No," he flatly states. "I'm not a kid. I'm a political figure. Which means that people can like or dislike me as much as they please."

* * *

"Hey," Doug comments as he sits with him at the cafeteria table.

"Hey," Ben responds as he sits. "What's up?"

"I saw your interview." Doug smiles, "Not too shabby." Ben tears up the ham and places it into the cheesy noodles. "It could have gone a lot worse, you know."

"Yeah," Ben breathes as he takes the meat and cheese from the sandwiches and places them between two of the bread slices. "I'm just lucky it was Lyla. Some interviewers don't even let you talk— but Lyla. She just waits for the story to come to her, you know?"

"You're not crushing, are you?"

Ben lifts a shoulder, "From a professional standpoint, maybe. Just a little."

Doug watches as Ben rolls up a piece of bread and dips it into the catchup, "You're eating weird again."

He gives him a look, "It's just bread in catchup. I'm sure a lot of people do it."

"You're getting the bread all soggy," Doug complains.

Ben mumbles, "And people say I'm a control freak." before he takes a bite out of the tall sandwich.

"I don't understand how you can eat that much."

He sets the sandwich down and lifts a hand, "If it bothers you, then at the next meal make me have a plate of raw vegetables. I can't chew those to save my life."

Doug sighs, "I'm not making you eat vegetables."

"Raw ones," Ben repeats. "Steamed ones I can manage."

Doug shuts his eyes and cringes, as Ben dips another rolled up piece of bread into the catchup. "Just stop for a minute." Ben gives him an annoyed look, before he takes out his phone, "Audrey was interviewed after court today. You're going to want to see this."

"Tell me. How bad is it?" Ben questions, before he dips another ball into the catchup and chews it.

"It's not bad," he promises. "In fact, it's really good."

He presses play and sets the phone down in front of Ben. Audrey is standing on the concrete stairs, smiling, "My boyfriend said something today that I need to correct." She takes a breath before saying, "I will no longer be holding the petition for hybrids to be documented at Auradon Prep." and after a few camera flashes and a question from a reporter she continues. "I know I've been very open about my views on hybrids, but today I'm saying that not all of them are bad and that they deserve the chance to continue their lives without being judged for something they didn't choose and don't have any control over."

Another reporter speaks, "What changed your mind? Why the sudden change?"

Audrey pauses, "I came to the realization that hybrids can look and behave just like the rest of us. Not all of them are pretending to be human. Some of them just behave like humans, because they grew up in a human society and learned the same values and morals that we did." Ben can hear the long breath she lets out, "The fact is, if hybrids can look and behave just like us, then that means they could be anyone we know. They could be our friends, a distant relative, or even someone we love." Ben glances up at Doug, their eyes meeting, but neither one says anything. "I don't want to be responsible for people getting kicked out of their homes or for having someone's career become ruined just because of who they are."

When the video stops Doug comments, "You should thank her." but that causes Ben to make a disgruntled noise. "What?"

"Well." Ben hesitates, "It's just that the last time I spoke to Audrey, I may or may not have stormed into the girls' bathroom and harassed her." Doug's mouth gapes, but there's irritability in his eyes, as though this is just the kind of thing Ben would do. "That's what Fairy Godmother said anyway… I just thought we were talking."

Doug narrows his eyes at him and sternly states, "Apologize. And thank her."

Ben picks up his spoon, "I'll do it later."

"Now," he firmly responds.

Ben sighs, "Come on." as he gestures at the noodles. "It's cheese, liquid cheese, and there's ham— lots of ham. And it's warm." Doug continues to glare at him. "Audrey probably isn't even here anyway. She's probably gossiping and fixing her lip-gloss in the bathroom. I can't just go in there… again."

"You don't have to," Doug frowns, as he nods over to another table. "She's there."

Ben sighs again, "Look. I'll do it after dinner, okay? When everyone goes up to their rooms. I can just knock on her door and ask to chat. That way it might actually be private too."

"You better," he sternly replies. "Because if you don't, I'm going to give away all of your protein bars and fruit chews."

"To who?" Ben calls his bluff.

Doug takes a second to think, "Carlos De Vil. He's skinny as a rail, and from what I hear he loves chocolate. I'm sure he could use it."

Ben frowns, "Your threat isn't necessary. I'll talk to her."

"You'll do what?" he questions.

Ben wets his lips and takes in a deep breath, "I will not talk to her like I did last time. This time I will merely apologize and say thank you."

Doug lets out a calming breath, "You know, if you were anyone else, you would be in so much trouble right now."

Ben slightly nods, "I know."

* * *

\- Next up: Ben and Audrey talk. Any predictions?


	96. Content

**Content**

 **(Day 59-60: Tuesday Night-Wednesday Morning)**

When Ben knocks on the door the blond girl he had seen with Audrey in the bathroom the previous week reveals herself as the door opens. He awkwardly smiles, "Hey, Ruby."

"Hey," she cautiously responds with squinted eyes.

He lifts his head to see above her, "Is Audrey here by any chance?"

She stands on her tiptoes, "Noo. I'm afraid she isn't."

Ben frowns, "I just want to apologize."

"For what?" she counters. "Invading her privacy in the bathroom or accusing her of lying about what _your_ girlfriend did to her?"

"It's not like I broke open a stall," Ben defends. "And I never said she lied!"

When a few people stare on at them Ruby partly smiles, "Be careful. Your beastliness is showing." Ben silences. "You really think I would let you see her when you're like this."

"I wasn't like this," Ben grits his teeth, "until you accused me of horrible things."

"So, what? You think you can just beast out and intimidate people like your father whenever something doesn't go your way? Is that it?"

"No. Of course, not," he breaths. "But you're making me out to be some kind of monster. I don't like that."

"I bet you don't," she retorts. "But your actions speak louder than anything you could possibly say to cover it up."

"I'm not covering anything up," Ben quietly states, before he glances down. "All I wanted to do was apologize… and then offer up an explanation if she needed one."

"It takes you a week to apologize," she points out in disbelieving annoyance, and then Ben lets out a long breath through his nose, unable to defend himself.

"It's okay," Audrey says from inside. "Let him in."

When the door opens fully Ben can see Audrey stand from her bed, and he attempts to smile, "Hi."

Audrey looks at Ruby, "Give us a minute."

"But what if he tries something?" she worries.

"He won't." Audrey reassures, "You can go." and after she leaves Audrey looks over Ben. "You don't have to explain yourself. I understand you were just desperate."

"I am sorry," Ben says anyway, before he takes a step forward. "If I somehow hurt or threatened you… I would never want to do that to anyone."

"I know," Audrey frowns, and it's quiet as she contemplates. "You do know that I didn't make it up, right? I'm not just doing this for attention. Mal really did hurt me."

"I know she did," Ben answers, eyeing the ground for a second. "She knows it too." Audrey doesn't speak. "Thank you. For dropping the petition."

"You don't need to thank me," she observes him. "A lot of people may have signed it at first, but at least a tenth of those names have been crossed out over the last couple of days." She looks away for a moment, "Which means you really aren't the only hybrid that can act human." before she looks back at him and shakes her head. "How long have you been a hybrid?"

Ben gives her a look, "Is that a serious question?"

"Well, I mean," Audrey explains, "you never know. It could have been that it developed during puberty instead of, like, you havin' always been this way."

It takes a second for Ben to confirm, "I have always been this way."

Audrey takes a step forward, "So… what? Have you always known or…"

When she stops a couple feet in front of Ben he slowly answers, "I think I've always known I was different somehow, but… it was only recently that I found out what I am." Audrey nods, and after a minute Ben comments, "In your interview you said a hybrid could be someone you love."

She looks into his eyes, "I did."

He opens his mouth before questioning, "If you really loved me, then why did you cheat on me?"

"Ben." She reaches out to touch his shoulder, but then she pauses and slowly retreats, "I never stopped loving you. What happened between us, love had nothing to do with it."

"Then why?" Ben asks again, and after a few seconds he can see tears fill her eyes.

"Because I couldn't make you happy," she whispers, "and it didn't matter how much time we spent together. It was like I was there but you didn't know I was. I could see how alone you felt, and no matter how hard I tried to be there for you, I still wasn't enough for you." Ben doesn't speak, as he watches the tears trail down Audrey's face. "And then Chad started to talk with me." She sadly smiles, "He made me feel like I was wanted, like I was a part of something." She laughs, "Granted. He may pay more attention to his hair than me sometimes, but when he does pay attention to me—" She grins, "It's like I'm the only girl on Earth."

"Even with his reputation?" Ben softly doubts.

"Even with his reputation," she confirms.

Ben looks away, "So, it was my fault. You never even broke up with me. You were just what? Waiting for me to start paying attention to you?"

She shrugs, "Honestly, I don't know. Everything with Chad was just in the moment. Kind of like passion, you know?" He glances down in thought and fails to speak, and after a minute she changes the subject. "I saw your interview too." He looks back at her, and she continues in hesitance, "I need to ask. Are you okay? You're not— I mean, I know you never really were before, but…" She offers a worried expression, "Are you?"

"Things have been hard without Mal," he admits. "Being with her, it must have been the first time in my life that I felt truly happy, and now—" He shakes his head, "It's hard going back to just being content." He lets out a breath, "I was fine with being content before, but now that I've experienced happiness and the least bit of passion… being content feels like being dead."

Audrey's eyes fill with tears again, "I'm so sorry. I really wish we could have solved this a different way."

"Yeah," Ben agrees. "Me too."

She wipes the tears from her face, "If I let you leave, you're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"

Ben smiles, "I can't give the people everything that they want."

Audrey takes a step and hugs him, before he slowly accepts it. "You've better not. I'd never be able to forgive myself if you did."

When she lets go he frowns, "It wouldn't be your fault if I did."

"Yes, it would be," she counters, "because you're standing here telling me all of this, and I could easily tell Fairy Godmother and get you put in the hospital."

"Because a white, padded room would make me so much happier," Ben half laughs.

"Promise me," Audrey urges, "that you won't."

Ben glances down and then wets his lips, "I won't."

* * *

"This trial is getting so boring," Mal complains. "Those people didn't say anything that hasn't already been said."

"It is getting rather repetitive," Ben agrees. "But isn't it better that they're saying they don't know you well enough to know what you were doing or intending? Isn't it good that they're giving the court art and small magic as your defining characteristics?"

"I guess," Mal mumbles. "But be honest." She observes his expression, "How much is that actually going to impact the judge?"

Ben glances down, "The point is to make you seem harmless. They will have no reason to believe that you would do something like this again if you seem harmless."

"Seem," Mal notices. "Ben." She hesitates, "Do you think I'm dangerous?"

"I think you're strong," he immediately responds. "Strong and capable, and those are very good qualities, but…"

"It makes me dangerous," Mal finishes.

Ben's quiet for a moment, "Mal." before a small breath escapes him. "Anyone can be dangerous under the right circumstances." Her eyes meet his. "But you have a good heart, and in my heart I believe that you can be good, that at this trial's end the court will see you are good, and pure, and innocent."

"Good, pure, and innocent," Mal disbelieves.

"Yes," Ben softly speaks. "You are thee most real person I know."

Mal looks down, "Maybe here that's not such a good thing."

Ben lifts her chin up, "You have a good heart, your intentions are pure, and you are innocent of this crime, no matter how close you may have come to committing it. The judge will see that, and you will be freed from this charge."

It takes a moment for Mal to slowly say, "So, is there a button to turn on and off or are you always so dorkishly poetic?"

"I may have read a little too much poetry and Shakespeare growing up," Ben admits as he offers her an unsure look. "It doesn't bother you, does it?"

She slightly shakes her head, "It just makes things seem a little less real."

Ben nods before hesitating, "Yesterday, I didn't give you a lot of time to talk about… what happened." Mal lets out a breath. "Did you want to talk about it more or…"

"No," Mal answers, but when Ben slightly nods again she continues. "There's just one thing, though." She pauses, glancing down. "Something that I haven't been able to tell anyone, because no one even really believed me." Ben looks at her intently, but as she starts to say it he hears her breathing quicken and become short.

He places a hand on her shoulder, "Hey. It's okay. It's only me."

Mal looks at him and lets out a long breath, before she uneasily says, "He… um." Tears intrude her eyes as she uncomfortably laughs, "He didn't use protection."

"What?" Ben hears himself say.

"I guess he was too busy holding me down. Or, maybe he just didn't care." She sniffles, "I don't know."

Ben's mouth gapes for a moment, "Did— Were you—"

"No," Mal painfully smiles. "You know, I'm just lucky." She looks down and breaths, "I guess." before Ben wraps his arms around her and she begins to cry. Her breathing is faster, and he can hear her heart pounding. "Everyone gets to brag about their first time. You know, talk about how awkward or amazing it was. But me—" He feels her heave a sob, as a squeak escapes her lungs. "I just wish I could forget the whole thing."

He rubs her back, "It's okay. It's going to be okay." and when her breathing slows he lets go of her, watching as she quickly wipes the tears from her face. "You know." Ben pauses, "It doesn't count as your first time. No one would ever make that count."

Mal gulps, "Yeah, maybe." and her eyes stay widened. "But no one knows. They all just think I was easy, that I was careless and don't take sex seriously."

There's a minute of silence, before Ben comments, "You know. If you wanted to come forward, you could still do that."

"So, what?" Mal breathes a laugh. "So that people here can label me as some liar too?"

"No," Ben counters. "So that they can know that it wasn't your choice. So that you don't have to hear people bring it up out of ignorance."

Mal shakes her head, "Ben. I just really want to put it behind me." and then he glances down. "It happened on the Isle. Can't it just stay there?"

Ben observes her tear-soaked expression, "Yeah. Okay. If you don't want to tell anyone, then we don't have to tell anyone."

Mal tries to smile, "Thank you." before she hugs him and closes her eyes.

"It's not going to stop people from talking about it," he quietly warns.

"I know." She lets go of him and slightly shakes her head, "But I can't be that girl. You understand?"

It takes a minute for Ben to respond, "I think so, but it's not something you should have to be ashamed of. It's not your fault. You understand that, don't you?" When she looks down he lifts her head up, "Hey. It wasn't your fault."

A couple more tears escape her eyes, "How can you know that? You weren't even there."

"Because," Ben insists, "people don't choose for this kind of thing to happen to them. They may fear it. They may even imagine it, but no one actually wants to go through it." He places a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't choose for this to happen to you. You hear me? It isn't your fault."

Mal shuts her eyes, "Don't say that."

"No," Ben disobeys. "I am going to say it, and I'm going to keep saying it until you believe it." She looks back up at him. "It's not your fault, Mal. You have to believe that. It's not your fault. It's his. And only his."

* * *

\- Which part do you like better: the first half or the second half? Or are you waiting for something better? Personally, I think I might like the first half better... and then also there's a scene that happens after the trial is over that I'm very excited to get to. I'm not sure, but I think some of you may like it too. (On a side note, these baby flies or gnats or whatever keep flying on my computer screen and it's super annoying. Spiders have also invaded my room via the air conditioner... I'm afraid of spiders, and one of them is this big, black one that's thick and probably has a shell and can't be squashed... It's made it's home by my bed. I'm hoping that if I leave it alone, then it won't move until I can figure out what to do with it. PS: It's been living with me for two weeks. It's really had me on edge.)


	97. Enough

**Enough**

 **(Day 60: Wednesday Afternoon)**

"You couldn't wait to see me until after classes?" Ben skeptically complains as he sits down in front of the headmistress's desk.

She claps her hands in front of herself, "This is important."

"Important enough to pull me out of English?" Ben raises his eyebrows. "I've already been missing my morning classes, and now you're ordering me to your office during my afternoon ones?" He eyes her down, "You know that we don't even use English at the castle? If I'm going to speak it, I need to learn it here."

"I'm sorry to inconvenience you," she apologizes, "but I thought it would be best to address this sooner rather than later."

Ben slightly shakes his head, "Address what?"

She nods down, "I know you've been through a lot lately, and given recent events…" She observes him. "Frankly, I'm concerned for your wellbeing."

He almost laughs in disbelief, "What? Did Audrey talk to you, because she said she wouldn't? I told her I was fine."

It takes a moment for Fairy Godmother to respond, "I didn't hear anything from Audrey."

Ben lets out a long, tired breath, "Then why are you doing this? I'm not your only student, you know." He stresses, "You have others."

"Yes," she acknowledges, "but not all of my students go on live TV and say they can't kill themselves in that moment."

Ben brings a hand to his forehead, "He told me too. What was I supposed to say?"

"How about that you won't?" she suggests. "Or, perhaps, that no one deserves to die?"

Ben runs the hand over his eyes, "You have me in counselling. What more could you possibly want from me?" before laying his arm back down on the chair.

"Tell me how things are going."

"I'm getting my assignments," he informs. "I'm turning them in."

"I don't care about your homework," she insists. "I care about you. I want to know how _you_ are doing."

He lifts a shoulder, "Just tired, I guess." and she waits for him to continue. "The trial. My workload. It's all been very exhausting."

"You are taking a lot of classes," she notes, and Ben stares at her in slight suspicion. "If the workload is too much with everything else that's been going on, then I can allow you to drop a class."

"No," he immediately shouts with wide eyes, before he shuts his them for a second as he takes a calming breath. "I just—" He stares at her, "I can't have any dropped classes on my report. It will say I attempted a number of points and failed."

"Ben," Fairy Godmother softly responds as she glances down at his file. "You've already earned a hundred and seventy-six points. That's more than enough to graduate."

"Yeah. I know," Ben shuts his eyes and stresses, "the record is a hundred and fifty-six, but I don't care. It will still look bad on my report card." He sighs, "Besides, there's no class I can afford not to take anyway."

The headmistress is quiet for a minute, "Well. If you're sure—"

"I'm sure," he insists.

She nods, "Okay, then. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Ben slowly shakes his head in thought, "No. There isn't." She doesn't speak. "May I leave now?"

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "Ben. I don't think that's a good idea."

"I have to meet the counselor in fifteen minutes," he excuses.

"You do?" she questions, and then he nods. "Okay, then."

Ben watches her pick up the landline, "What are you doing?"

"Just confirming your story," she comments before smiling at the person on the other end. Ben leans back in the chair and folds his arms, as he waits for it to end. He looks back up at the sound of the clanking phone. "Your story pans out. You may leave."

"Of course, it did," Ben mumbles as he stands. "Why wouldn't it?"

"Hold on."

Ben turns back around and suspiciously takes the brochures given to him, "What's this?" He tenses at the words and throws them back on her desk, "I'm not suicidal."

"It's just a precaution," she reassures.

"A precaution," Ben exasperates. "That thing had the suicide hotline number on it."

"It's anonymous," she explains.

"I don't care if it's anonymous," he shouts. "Everyone probably knows my voice by now." He sees her about to speak, before he raises a closed hand in stress, "And my girlfriend is standing trial. You honestly think I would leave her alone like that?"

Fairy Godmother calmly comments, "People can act illogically when they're depressed."

"Well, I'm not depressed, am I?" he counters. "I've taken the classes. I would know if were, and I don't need some merdique pamphlet to tell me what to do if I am."

"Yes. Well," the headmistress breathes, as she picks up the materials and hands them to him again. "You can tell the councilor how much you don't need these shitty pamphlets once you're done reading them."

Ben eyes the materials in annoyance as he takes them, before he mutters, "Have a nice day, I guess."

She smiles, "You too, Ben. Take care of yourself." and with that he strides out of the headmistress's office.

* * *

"It's like whatever I do I'm doing something wrong," Ben complains as he finishes the pamphlets and tears them into pieces. "Get frustrated. Get sent to the office. Become ill. Get sent to the office. Try to tell off some fucking guy outside of school grounds after school hours? Get sent to the office. Whatever I do it's just the same shit over and over again."

"I still don't speak French," the councilor reminds him.

"Exactly," Ben states in English. "That's the whole point."

"The treatment would be better if I could understand what you're saying."

He gives the blond a suspicious look, "Treatment?"

"The treatment plan," she explains. "It's standard procedure for anyone who has more than three visits with me."

"And what does my treatment plan say?" Ben slowly inquires.

"Well," she sighs as she fixes her black glasses. "The headmistress would like me to get you to open up and feel more comfortable talking with authority figures."

"I talk with authority figures," Ben informs in partial confusion. "I'm king. I do it a lot."

She hesitates, "I think that maybe she was referring in context of when you're just a student, a kid that may need help."

He tenses, "What would I need help from?"

The councilor shrugs, "I don't know. I'm just carrying out instructions." but Ben doesn't respond. "Is there anything you would like to specifically discuss today?" She nods down at the pile of shredded paper, "That, for instance?"

Ben lets out an annoyed breath, "Our lovely headmistress seems to think I'm suicidal, but I'm not."

"Why do you think she thinks you are?" the therapist calmly questions.

"Mostly, it probably has to do with that stupid interview." He pauses, "Did you see it?"

"Yes," she nods.

"What did you think of me? Did I look suicidal?" He looks off in thought, "If that's even a thing."

"You seemed stressed, and towards the end you did appear rather… well, upset."

"You mean that part where I had my hand to my head?" She doesn't answer, and then he sighs, "I wasn't upset at that point. I was just sick. The… excitement caused my fever to rise."

"If you had a fever, then why did you do the interview?" she inquires.

Ben's quiet for a moment, "It had to get done." before he quickly continues on. "Not that the interview really helped. I may have just made things worse." He shifts his seating, "I keep getting these messages online, people saying that the island is a part of Auradon and that selling drugs is still a crime." before he crosses his arms. "They think Mal should be sent to prison just based on the crimes she's had to admit to during the trial."

"Wouldn't they have to have those charges for a different trial, though?" she tries to reassure. "They can't just add those charges on, can they?"

"Actually, they could," Ben quietly responds as he glances down, "but because drug charges are irrelevant to the case they may not be." He half laughs, "Although. Because she confessed to it, they might be able to arrest her right after she's proven innocent." He looks up in thought, "Or, maybe, they will just decide she's a monster instead of a hybrid and execute her." He sits up straighter, quickly asking, "Is there any soda around here? I feel like having a soda."

"There's a machine out in the hall," she confirms.

"Great." He stands from his chair, "I will be right back." before he hurries out and then comes back in with six cans of Diet Coke. He places them in a line on the table, opens the first, chugs half of it, and then lets out a relaxing breath, "That's better." He lifts a hand, "What were we talking about?"

"Your girlfriend's charges," she reminds him as she partially smiles, glancing over the organized cans.

"Right," Ben comments as he turns all of the cans towards him. "I know I'm probably just being overly paranoid, and I know that they should be required to have a written confession, but if she confessed to everyone on camera, does it really matter?"

She watches him finish off the first can and open the second, "What do you think is really going to happen?"

Ben takes a drink, "What do you mean?"

"You said you understand that you're probably just being paranoid," she notes. "So, putting that aside, what do you think would be a reasonable outcome to all of this?"

He shrugs, "The judge somehow turning Mal's attempted crime into a real one and then her dying in prison, probably."

The councilor softly speaks, "You really think that's going to happen?"

"It's just one of the many brilliant scenarios I came up with." Ben lets out a stressed breath before lifting up the can and smiling, "But, yeah. That's the most reasonable."

She watches him open up the third can, "Do any of those scenarios end happily?"

Ben scrunches his eyebrows, "What would be the point in that?"

"To give you hope," she answers. "To give you something to strive for."

He gives her a look, "I strive to survive. I wouldn't be surviving if I didn't think about what bad things could happen when and what to do when they do." She doesn't speak, and he takes another drink. "I tell my girlfriend that she's innocent and that the judge will see that, because she is and it's what she needs to hear to believe it herself." He opens the forth can, "However, I will be extremely relieved if she gets to survive this."

"And if she doesn't?" Their eyes meet, "What would you do then?"

Ben looks away, "I don't want to think about that." but when the therapist doesn't speak he looks back up at her. "I've never really been happy. It was like I never really belonged anywhere, like whatever I do it will never be good enough… and that I'm a lie." He slightly shakes his head, "I've only ever been content, but Mal's made me happy. I don't want to lose that." He takes a sip of the soda, "I imagine it would feel a lot like falling off a cliff, high one moment and then just plummeting so fast… Being content wouldn't be enough anymore."

She nods with a frown, "And how do you feel right now?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, "Like I'm slipping, I suppose." and then he lifts a hand. "Not in the suicidal way, just—" He makes a hopeless noise. "Mal is my star, my light. Everything is just so bright and clear when she's around." He feels the tears intrude his eyes, "Everything just makes sense, and I have someone. I've never felt like that before."

"You've never felt like you had someone before?" Ben slightly shakes his head. "What about your parents? I know it's not the same kind of relationship, but they are there for you."

Ben's quiet for a minute as he looks down, "My parents try their best." before he looks back up again. "But they don't understand. And it's not just because I'm some teenager that's ignorant of their helpfulness. It really is just that they…" He wets his lips, "It's like they're parenting me separately. It's contradictory sometimes." He eyes the table again, "My mother's worry can overcloud her praise, and my father…" Ben shakes his head, "I'm never going to be able to make them happy. Whatever I do I will always be doing something wrong, so it's not like the things I achieve will ever actually mean anything." He shakes himself with a shiver, letting out a disheartened breath, as he rubs the tears off the corners of his eyes. He stares at her for a moment, "This stays between us, right?"

The councilor nods, "Yes. It does."

* * *

\- **Plot** : I like that I'm having Ben allow himself to swear when he's speaking French. It almost creates another side to him that many people may not see (because the national language is English and he might get away with swearing in French without completely ruining his reputation)... The thing is, though, I don't really swear, so my bias may make his "personality switch" more apparent than it actually is... which, there isn't actual personality switch. It's just that he's more comfortable saying what he wants to when people may not be able to understand him... I should stop talking. I feel like if I try to explain my point here it's just going to be misinterpreted, because even I don't know what I'm truly wanting to say right now... What I will say is that when Ben isn't around his parents he allows himself to vent a lot more in French, I think, whereas when he speaks English it's more controlled. Maybe? I don't know how you guys are interpreting it, but all in all it may not truly matter anyway. It's not like it directly impacts the plot (or the mess I claim to be plot) or anything, so yeah.

\- **Technical** : I had a word italicized within the dialogue once in each of these last two chapters. I hadn't done it before, because when I write in third person I use italicization to indicate thoughts, and I previously thought it might be too confusing to use italicization for emphasis as well. I took a chance with it, thinking that you guys would probably be smart enough to notice the difference when it's inside dialogue, but I'm not sure. It could have been read as a word someone was thinking as they were saying the sentence but that they didn't actually say that word aloud... I may have actually made that mistake in my Harry Potter fic once, just because I didn't know how else to do it... I don't know. Let me know whether or not the italicization within the dialogue was confusing or not for you, whether or not you even noticed it. If it was confusing I won't do it again, but if it wasn't confusing then it could be a good way to get tone across in a speedy conversation (instead of breaking up that argument with heavy and potentially distracting narration).

-As always, thank you so much for reading. I hope you've enjoyed. Also, thank you to those who have been answering my questions and giving help. You've been really great. Have a nice day/night.


	98. Bad Things

**Bad Things**

 **(Day 61: Thursday Afternoon)**

 _What are we going to do if Mal is found guilty?_ Ben glances at Evie, who sits the next desk over, before he places his pen to the paper. _At that point it's probably better to transfer her back to the Isle of the Lost. She would at least have a chance of surviving there, but then again, she wouldn't be able to be let go early for good behavior because of the lack of security_. He folds the note back up and passes it back to Evie.

After she writes her response she hands it back to him. _How long will she get if she's guilty?_ Ben takes a moment to think. _Attempted assault is three months in jail. I don't know what the difference is for attempted sexual assault. If she's found guilty of the crime itself, then she could get a year in jail. Since she used her hypnotism to restrain Audrey, it could be classified as aggravated assault by use of magic. If she gets that, then she may very well get several years in prison_. He pauses. _She's also a hybrid, which doesn't do her any favors. They may see her as more of a threat than a human and make her sentence longer_. He hands the paper back to Evie, but as she finishes reading it the teacher approaches them.

The woman with brown, curly hair looks down at Evie, "Give me the note." and with only slight reluctance she hands it to her. The teacher moves her glasses as she reads it, "Yes. I'm sure everyone will find this very informative."

"What?" Evie questions.

"Notes passed around in my class get hung up on the wall," the grey eyed instructor informs, before she glances down at Ben. "And yet you did it anyway." Ben doesn't respond. "In the future, please discuss your girlfriend outside of my classroom."

"We only did it for a couple minutes," Ben excuses.

"Of course," she slightly smiles. "Then you won't mind giving a guess as to what the next vocab word means."

Ben looks at the board, "Bruit?" before he gives a questioning look to the teacher. "Isn't that just some grumpy, old man?"

"No," she disapprovingly states. "It isn't." Ben sighs. "Brute, the noun with an E at the end, loosely means a violent animal, but that's not an old, grumpy man either." She observes him for a second, "Can you guess what bruit, the verb, means?"

He lets out a breath of annoyance, "Come on. This isn't fair. With English you always spell the same word twenty different ways and then give it a different meaning. I bet no one else here knows what bruit with a U and an I means either."

"It means to spread rumors," Evie quietly answers.

The teacher smiles at her, "Very good." before she turns back to Ben. "Looks like some people know it after all."

"She used to read the dictionary for fun," Ben exclaims. "Of course, she knows what it means." He raises his eyebrows, "Plus, she grew up speaking English. She has an advantage."

The instructor widens her eyes at Ben, "I've had enough of your excuses and complaints. You grew up bilingual, and studies show that when people learn another language they get a better understanding of their own. That makes it so that _you_ have the advantage." Ben glares at her. "As far as your dislike for English, take it up with your parents. They're the ones that made it the official language of this country."

"They only did that, because more people spoke it than French." He huffs, "They hardly ever even speak any English themselves."

"Maybe not," she accepts, "but they've learned it to the point where they speak it very well, and I suggest that you do same by paying attention in my class rather than passing notes or working on homework from other classes." His expression softens, before she turns back to Evie. "You got the definition correct. Go up to the board and write it in a sentence."

Evie tiredly looks at the distance between her seat and the board, "Do I have to?"

"You could use the participation points," the teacher advises.

"Okay," Evie breathes, before she presses down on the desk to lift herself from her seat, and the teacher moves out of the way so that Evie can walk down the aisle to the board. She slowly reaches for the blue marker and takes the cap off; however, with her arm in the air she glances over as she watches the instructor write the definition next to the word on the other board. Evie looks back in front of her. _Bruit_. _Spread rumors_. She shuts her eyes and mouths, "Mal." before she opens her eyes again and places the marker's point onto the board. She writes, "Students often brui—" but then she stops, as her eyes cross and her vision blurs. She blinks, takes in a large breath, and shifts her stance; however, the world turns to bright white as her eyes cross again and she collapses to the floor, the marker rolling out of her hand and across the room.

Ben runs over to her and lifts her back off of the ground, "Evie." as the teacher hovers over them in worry.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," he hurriedly states. "She just hasn't—" He huffs, "Eaten." as he lightly shakes her. "Evie."

Her eyes squint open, "Mal?"

"No," Ben frowns.

"Ben?" She sits up and places a hand to her head, "I'm sorry. I—"

"Can you stand?" he interrupts.

"Yeah." She slowly stands to her feet, holding onto the metal ledge of the whiteboard for a moment before staring at her unfinished sentence.

The teacher comments, "Evie. I want you to go to the nurse's office."

"Why?" she questions as she finishes writing the sentence on the board. "I'm fine."

"You fainted," she counters.

Evie turns to her and mumbles, "It happens."

When the teacher doesn't respond Ben speaks, "With all due respect, Evie's been sent to the nurse before, and it didn't help. With your permission, I'd like to take her to the kitchen instead and make sure she gets something to eat."

"No," Evie objects.

"Yes," Ben widens his eyes at her, before he turns back to the instructor and pleads, "Please."

"School policy is to send her to the nurse," she evenly informs.

"We already know what the problem is." Ben persuades her, "Wouldn't it be more productive to solve the problem instead of being retold what it is?"

She's quiet for a minute, observing the two of them, "Given your grades, I will allow it."

"Thank you," Ben breathes.

"However," she raises a finger, "I want you back here before the end of the hour. If you aren't, I will inform Fairy Godmother that you've skipped the class."

"Of course," Ben nods, before he tugs Evie towards the door. "Come on."

When they make it outside of the classroom Evie pulls away, and Ben turns towards her. "I won't eat. You can't make me."

Her voice is ridged, filled with defensive insecurity, and Ben can see the fear in her dark brown eyes. "Evie." He takes a step forward, and then she takes a step back. He sighs, "You don't need to worry. I'm not going to make you eat."

She looks at him in unsureness, "But you told her—"

"I know what I told her," he softly responds, before he shakes his head. "But this problem you have with eating isn't going to go away, unless you choose to do it on your own accord." She stands her ground, not moving an inch. Ben outstretches an arm, "Don't you trust me?"

She darts her eyes between his hand and him, "I don't know. Can I?"

"You can trust me," he reassures. "I would never do anything to hurt you." He sees her glance at his hand again. "That includes your mind and pushing you into your fears."

Evie lets out a breath as she takes his hand, "Okay."

* * *

Evie watches as Ben places the large cup of water into the microwave, "If you're not making me eat, then what are you doing?" before she sees him take out the carton of egg whites.

"The water needs to be hot for when I add the honey."

She watches him take out a pan and measure out the egg whites, "And that?"

"Two cups," he informs her. "That's two hundred and fifty-two calories."

"I thought you said you weren't going to make me eat?" she irritably responds.

When Ben turns around and sees her arms crossed he partly smiles, "The eggs are your choice. It's low enough in calories where it shouldn't bother you, but if it's still too much for you, then I won't make you." She stays quiet, before he steps away from the pan and takes the plastic glass out of the microwave. "This, however…" He finds a tablespoon and puts two servings into the water, eating the remaining honey from the measuring spoon before placing it into the sink.

"However, what?" Evie prompts as she watches him check on the eggs and then find a straw for the glass.

He stirs the honey into the hot water, "Two tablespoons is a hundred and twenty calories. That may sound like a lot, but it will help increase energy levels and provide nutrients. So, it's worth it." She doesn't speak, as she watches him place the eggs onto a plate.

When he serves the items to her she questions, "What's the red stuff?"

"Cayenne pepper," Ben answers. "It helps with digestion." He watches her stare at the eggs skeptically, "It also helps curb appetite, boost metabolism, and burn fat."

Evie looks up at him with narrowed eyes, "How the hell do you know all this shit?"

"Funny," Ben evenly responds. "You don't strike me as the kind of girl that would swear twice in the same sentence."

"Funny," Evie says back to him. "You said you don't count calories, and I didn't see you look at the labels."

It takes a moment for Ben to assert, "I said it would be impractical for me to count calories. I didn't say I never did it." He looks away for a second, "The fact of the matter is I know all of this from when I was in sports. As far as the calorie counting goes…" He shakes his head, "Even though it was impractical for me to do it because the school and Mrs. Potts don't give out nutritional information about the food served, it made me feel good to see the progress or whatever I was making." He lifts a shoulder, "And, I guess, it just became a habit."

"How can I trust that the calories in this is what you say it is?" she disbelieves.

Ben frowns, "Because." before he pulls out his phone. "I just had it this morning." He goes to the app and shows it to Evie. "See that? Two cups egg whites: two hundred and fifty-two calories."

"Yeah," she comments in disgust. "Right next to the ham steak." She opens her mouth in shock, "And ten protein bars." before she gives Ben a look. "When the hell did you have the time to eat all of those?"

"I didn't sleep last night," Ben mumbles, before he hurriedly exits the app and puts his phone back into his pocket; however, when he looks back at Evie she's still giving him the same shocked look. "Yeah. I know. Over a thousand calories before the day even started. Why don't you focus a little less on my eating habits and a little more on the fact that I didn't lie to you?"

Evie looks down at the meal presented to her, "Do I have to have this?"

"I want you to at least drink the water," Ben confirms. "You need something."

"A hundred and twenty calories," Evie remembers, placing a hand to her head. "Ben. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can do this."

"Yes, you can."

"No. I can't," she whispers, and when she looks up at him Ben can see the tears in her eyes. "I just— I can't."

"You can," he assures.

"No. I can't," she sternly responds, before breaking into tears. "You don't understand. I can't." She cries, "I ca— I."

"No. I do understand." He waits for her to look back at him. "You think that if you break the rules you've set for yourself, then something bad will happen." He places a hand onto her arm, "But I'm here to tell you nothing will."

"You can't know that," she softly denies.

"No. I can," he affirms. "Your mother can't harm you here, and the calorie amount is not anywhere near enough to have an impact on your body's shape."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Evie whispers. "It's Mal."

Ben's mouth gapes open, but it takes a minute for him to speak, "You mean that you're just so worried that you can't think about eating. You can't honestly believe that if you eat, it's going to hurt Mal." She looks away, and Ben sighs, "Evie. Whatever is going on with Mal, it has nothing to do with whether you eat or not."

"Something bad always happens when I eat," Evie denies.

"No," Ben sternly states, and then she stares back up at him in surprise. "Evie," he breathes as he shakes his head. "It's a messed up world. Bad things happen." He points to himself, "They happen to me too, and believe me: it has nothing to do with whether someone is eating or not. Bad things just happen. Nothing's going to stop that." He sees her glance back down at the meal, "Not even not eating."

She slightly shakes her head, "I wish I could believe that."

Ben's quiet for a minute, "Look." before he rests a hand on her arm and she looks up again. "Just drink the water. You're allowed to have water, aren't you?"

"But there's honey in the water," Evie worries.

"There's a lot of things in water." Ben gestures as he reasons. "Bacteria and microbes. Chemicals for purification." He tries to smile, "That honey is honestly probably the healthiest thing you're going to find in that water."

She eyes the glass, "It's going to make me fat."

"No. It won't," Ben promises, but she looks at him with skepticism. "How about I join you? I can make myself a glass of it too. I can even double the amount of honey in mine if it makes you feel better about how much is in yours."

"You would do that for me?" Evie's eyes widen in disbelief.

He shrugs, "I've probably already gone over my calorie intake for the day. What's three hundred more?"

She shuts her eyes for a moment, "You shouldn't have to sacrifice your appearance just to make me feel better."

"I'm not," he reassures. "That's just how confident I am that this honey is not going to have any negative impact on you."

Evie hesitates before nodding, "Alright. So long as you're that confident."

Ben's smile widens, "Okay. Just give me a minute." before he stands from his seat and goes to grab another glass. There's silence until Ben sits back down, and he makes a face as he sips through the straw.

"You okay?" Evie questions.

"Yeah," Ben answers. "It's just that there's so much honey in mine that there's an entire layer on the bottom to get through."

"Sorry," she apologizes.

He shakes his head, "Don't worry about it. I make horrible mistakes like this all of the time." before he nods down to her drink. "Your turn."

Evie takes a sip of her own, "It is really sweet." before she puts her mouth to the straw again. She watches as Ben continues his own, "Thank you." and as he stares back she explains. "For not making me eat. It's nice to have someone who—" She glances down for a second, "Someone who can claim they understand." before she meets his eyes again. "A lot of people just tell me that I'm being ridiculous, and they make a big thing of why I can't just do it, as if it's just so easy and simple."

"Food is anything but simple," Ben frowns in response. "Every athlete knows that." He drinks from the cup, "Mix too many carbs with protein, it turns into fat. Don't get enough carbs and you don't have the energy to play." He attempts to smile, "I completely get it." before he lifts a shoulder. "Or, at least as well as anyone can. I know it must be a lot harder for someone with an eating disorder." He sees her shut her eyes at the term, "It is what you have, you know. Your fear of weight gain and food and your calorie restriction are all signs of anorexia."

"I don't need to gain weight," Evie irritably responds. "I'm already fat enough."

Ben hears the disgust in her tone, "Evie. You're not fat." and he moves his eyes away as she gives him a doubtful look. "And I know you're not going to believe me." He pauses as he meets her eyes, "But you're thin enough. Too thin, actually. Girls are supposed to be a little curvy. It means that you're healthy enough to carry a child, and there are studies that show guys have a biological response to that and are more likely to go for a girl like that." She doesn't speak, and he lets out a breath, "Your ability to get ahead in life or date whoever is not dependent on how thin you are. It's dependent on how healthy you are." She shakes her head and looks away from him. "You hear me? Just because you can pinch something, that does not mean it's not supposed to be there."

Evie gives him a look, "I hear you. I just don't believe you." and then Ben sighs before silencing. "You're a guy. You couldn't possibly understand what expectations a girl has or what we're supposed to look like, even with all your fancy studies."

Ben is quiet for a moment, glancing down for a second, before he calmly comments, "You're right. I don't know." and he watches as Evie slowly uncrosses her arms in unsureness. "What I do know is that Doug worries about you— Mal worries about you— and you can't survive like this forever. If you want to carry on a life with those you care about, then you need to care a little more about yourself and a little less of how you think people may perceive you." She quietens, staring down in thought. "And I'm not trying to scare you. I'm just telling you that this isn't good, and it will lead somewhere bad."

She frowns up at him, "What? Did your studies tell you that?"

"No," Ben frowns with sad eyes. "You did. You've fainted twice in class since you've gotten here, and each time you carried on as though everything was fine." He shakes his head, eyeing his drink for a moment, "Don't get me wrong, I've ignored problems with my own health, and I'm not one to give advice…" He looks up at her again, "But if you don't get help, both the short and long-term effects can be fatal, and eventually they will catch up to you."

"No," Evie denies. "I'm different. It will be different for me."

"What makes you think that?" Evie stays silent. "You're human, Evie. You can't live like this forever."

"I'm a witch, actually," she mumbles.

Ben shakes his head, "Witch, human, hybrid, or whatever." He stresses, "We all still need to eat to survive. If merpeople can't live off of water alone, then don't think you can either." He lets out a calming breath. "I'm sorry It's just, people care about you— I care about you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Evie whispers.

Ben nods and then checks his watch, "We need to get back to class soon." before he lifts up his drink and attempts to smile. "Cheers?"

Evie almost smiles herself, "Cheers." before their glasses clank and she finishes drinking the honey water.

* * *

\- You guys have been quiet the last couple weeks. It's getting me a little paranoid. My writing isn't that horribly terrible, is it?


	99. Two Years

**Two Years**

 **(Day 62: Friday Afternoon)**

"Mal." Jay pauses, "We still haven't talked about…" He shifts his head, "What you told Evie. We need to talk about it."

Mal darts her eyes to the guard, who carefully observes her, before she looks back at Jay, "I don't think we have to. It won't matter if I never get out of here."

"Evie and I have talked to Ben," he asserts. "He says that even if you're found guilty that it probably wouldn't be more than ten years at the most."

She smiles in disbelief, "I would dead way before ten years."

Jay hesitates, "That's the other thing." and he glances down before continuing. "If you're found guilty…" He looks into her eyes, "Ben wants to send you back to the Isle."

Mal laughs, "But he promised he wouldn't."

"He doesn't want you to die," Jay's voice raises, and Mal's smile slips. "He cares about you. A lot. You know that?"

"I do," she quietly confirms.

After a moment of silence he continues, "I know it would be hard, but at least you would have a chance there. And we could visit you. He said we could."

Mal looks away for a minute, "Yeah. Maybe once a month." before she shakes her head. "Taking the barrier down any more than that would be too risky."

"I thought his car went through the barrier."

"No," she looks down as she remembers. "His driver has that remote. It opens a hole in the barrier and activates that magic bridge."

"Oh," Jay slowly comments.

"Not surprised you don't remember," Mal evenly responds. "You were probably too busy fighting with Carlos to notice." She watches Jay tense his jaw as he looks away. "That can't be good. Something wrong?"

Jay makes a noise as he looks back at her, "Not so much something wrong. Just…" He shakes his head, "It's just that this trial has brought up some views of his, and it's like I don't even know where it's coming from."

"Views?" Mal prods.

"Yeah," Jay explains. "Like—" He shakes his head again, "I can't call him a bigot, because it's almost like he has the opposite problem, where he thinks hybrids and people of other races are more superior than him." He makes a face, "He's just so… ignorant."

Mal sighs, "Jay. I think you need to cut Carlos some slack. He didn't grow up around hybrids like you did. He's just like everyone else from the Isle: he sees hybrids as powerful people who have a better chance at surviving and succeeding. It's not his fault." She glances at the floor, "As Ben would say, it's a societal problem." before she partly smiles at him. "And as far as race goes, white people don't have the best track record, what with all the slavery and genocide and everything." Mal looks up for a moment, "Plus, his mother is black, so…" before she offers Jay an unsure expression, "Can't you understand where he's coming from, at least a little bit?"

Jay huffs, "He's just so young. You know?" as he shakes his head. "He's so smart, I forget that. But he's only fourteen for crying out loud."

"Jay," Mal cautiously interrupts. "You're only two years older than him, not even. What makes you think you can complain about his age?"

"Because," he flusters. "I mean—" He lets out a frustrated breath, "If he's only fourteen, then how the hell is he supposed to know what he really wants?"

"You're only sixteen," Mal counters with a frown. "How are you supposed to know what you really want?" Jay silences. "Seriously. You're starting to sound like one of those stupid adults. Everyone knows what they want. When I was a toddler I wanted milk. When I was a kid I wanted coloring supplies. And now? I just want to finish this trial and get out of this stupid jail cell." She expects Jay to crack smile, but he doesn't. "Want is something that's part of someone's instinct to survive, not something you learn. The only way someone wouldn't want something is if they were taught not to want it, if they were taught not to ask for it."

Jay softly speaks, "There are some things, though, that younger people don't know or understand. You can't know what you want if you don't even understand the situation."

Mal looks at him for a moment, "We grew up on the Isle. I'm pretty sure that whatever it is Carlos says he wants, that he knows what it is. And he's smart. You literally just said that."

"I know he is, but…"

It's quiet for a minute, "Jay. Unless you're trying to ask about something specific, my answer isn't going to change. We grew up on the Isle, and Carlos is smart. I'm pretty sure whatever situation he's in, he understands what it is." He doesn't speak. "Are you asking about something specific?"

Jay slowly shakes his head, "No." as he looks down. The age difference has just been getting to me. I guess I'm just… concerned that it might make things hard."

Mal squeezes his wrists in reassurance, "I wouldn't worry about it. If anything comes between the two of you, it's probably more likely to be some dumb argument and not age."

"Yeah. You're probably right," Jay breathes, before he looks at their hands. "Does this even help you anymore? Evie was saying it doesn't."

It takes a second for Mal to answer, "It doesn't work as much or as fast as other things, but heat is a lot like money: every bit helps."

Jay nods, before he hesitates, "About what you said to Evie." and then Mal groans. "I know you don't want to talk about it, but we need to talk about it."

"I'm sick of talking about it," Mal complains. "I've just been stressed, and I don't think we need to talk about it every time I make some small comment."

"It is necessary," Jay counters. "If you're stressed, then tell me about it. The whole point of telling me you feel like having a drink is so that you don't. Talking about why you did it afterwards only helps so much."

"I've been sober for two years," Mal seethes, but when she sees the hurt on Jay's face her expression falters.

He slightly shakes his head, "Mal. You just had a bottle of cooking wine three weeks ago." and then he sees her shut her eyes and tilt her head down. "It's okay."

She shakes her head, "I was doing so good." before she heavily breaths. "Now I'm right back where I started."

"Hey," Jay tries to smile. "You've gone three weeks. That's progress."

Mal furrows her eyebrows at him as tears fill her eyes, "Only because I've been in jail the entire time." and then she cries. "When I've thought about getting out of here, I haven't even really thought about Ben. The first thing I think about is…" She looks back down and shakes her head, "I'm such a horrible girlfriend."

"No. You aren't," he softly reassures. "You just have a problem, but we will fix it. Like we always do."

Mal tiredly shakes her head, letting go of his wrists to wipe the tears from her face, "I'm sick of fixing my problems. It's not going to make them go away." She breathes, "Everything would be better if I was just dead."

"Don't say that," Jay stresses.

"Why not?" Mal painfully grins with wide eyes. "It's true. You wouldn't have to be so worried about me, Ben wouldn't be getting criticized by his own citizens, and Evie wouldn't be getting hurt by me. She could finally move on."

"Mal," Jay tries to reason, "we love you. All of us. What do you think it would do to us if you killed yourself, huh? Surely, Ben and Evie would blame themselves. And me?" He shakes his head, "You've been there for me nearly my whole life. Who would I talk to? Who would I go to for advice?"

"Carlos," Mal frowns in answer. "He's smart enough."

"And if I need to talk about Carlos?" Jay aggravates, and then Mal silences. "We wouldn't be better off without you. None of us would, so don't even think it."

"It would just be temporary," Mal denies as she glances down at the ground. "You would all get over me eventually."

It takes a moment for Jay to say, "I wouldn't." and then Mal looks back at him. "You're like family to me, the only good family I've had. You were there for me when my father would kick me out of the house, you were there when I needed your help to steal for him, and you were there to remind me that him being nice to me wouldn't last. You're my family. I wouldn't have survived this long without you. Please, whatever you do, don't think that I don't still need you now just because he's not here."

It takes a minute for Mal to speak, "There's nothing to kill myself with in here anyway. Nothing but my teeth, and they'd probably just send me to the hospital again anyways." She looks into his eyes, "Don't worry. You're not going to lose me."

"Even after you get out of here?" Jay questions.

"Even after I get out of here," Mal promises.

* * *

\- You can probably tell which chapters I worked on around the same time based on how I used the same words over and over and over again. Maybe you didn't even notice, but I used reassure and assure a lot in these chapters. I normally switch some with synonyms during editing, but I couldn't think of any good replacements and the defaults weren't helping. Sorry. :/ ... I really don't use emojis. I probably did it wrong...


	100. Good Morning

**Good Morning**

 **(Day 63: Saturday Morning)**

"Audrey?" Doug questions as he opens the door, before she walks in.

She sings, "Good morning." in a high pitch, causing Ben roll onto his side and groan. "Come on. It's time to wake up."

"I just got to bed at four," Ben complains.

"And it's ten now," she smiles, before she places the cold drink to his forehead.

He opens his eyes, "What's that?" before he sits up and takes it. "Wait. Is this—"

Audrey sees him nearly smile, "Your green tea lemonade with half ice and double jell cubes? Yes. I got it for you on my way out of the café."

"Why?" Ben asks, before he takes a drink, smiling as he bites into the squishy cubes.

"Because, I know it makes you happy."

Ben gives her a look, "Audrey. You know you're not my girlfriend anymore, right? You don't need to try to make me happy."

"I may be your ex," she answers as she makes her way to the closet, "but I would still like to think we're friends." She finds an outfit on a hanger, before she opens a drawer to pick out a pair of socks and boxers. "Besides. My church is going to the homeless shelter today to donate items and volunteer, and I've decided you're coming with me. She goes and sets the pile on the end of his bed, "So, get up and get dressed. We leave in thirty."

Ben sighs, "Audrey, I really appreciate what you're trying to do here, but I really don't feel like volunteering at the shelter today."

"Well, that's why you should go," Audrey persists. "Nothing makes someone feel happier than knowing they've done good by giving back to the community."

"They're going to hate me," Ben denies.

"Why? Because of little ole me?"

Ben frowns, "It's not just the case." as he sets the drink down on the side table. "I was supposed to implement low income housing when I became king, but I didn't. And I'm not even going to be able to. My father already hates that I'm planning to give the dwarves a raise. He would never let me make plans to build apartments for the homeless."

"Why not?" Audrey questions. "If it's going to be a government owned building, then that would mean any rent money would go to the government. You would be getting returns on it. In the long run it could even be considered an investment."

"God," Ben laughs as he flops back onto his back and raises his arms into the air. "Finally. Someone gets it."

"Well, I am taking Advanced Economics," she reminds him. "A class I'm pretty sure you are supposed to be taking."

His grin turns back into a frown, "I know. I have to take it next year."

"Right," Audrey skeptically comments.

"I will," Ben reassures. "It can replace the Communications class I took this year."

She looks at him in worry, "You can't honestly be saying you plan on taking ten classes again next year."

He's quiet for a moment, "I will be. Unless my parents say it's okay that I don't." and with a prying glance from Doug he explains. "I've been doing it since middle school, and my parents only just now noticed. As though they didn't think I had any requirements at all this entire time when they were suggesting which classes I take."

Audrey frowns, "They're just old fashioned. Most things were learned by trade when they were our age. You can't blame them for that."

"I'm not," Ben almost yells in stress, before he shakes his head. "It's just… this entire time… they didn't even know. They saw my report cards, and somehow they didn't know what they were asking me to do." He lets out a sad breath, "My father still doesn't know… or maybe he does. I don't know. All I know is that I'm not allowed to not do well." He stares down at the dark blue blanket, "At all."

Audrey takes a step forward to grab the drink from the bedside table, before she hovers it in front of Ben's face, "Come on. Finish it. We need to leave soon."

Ben takes it and mumbles, "Thanks."

Audrey watches him drink it, "No problem."

* * *

"What's he doing here?"

Ben hears the aggravated voice, as the blond girl steps in front of him and Audrey; however, Audrey politely responds with a smile, "He's here to volunteer with us."

"He's an atheist," she disapproves.

"He's not an atheist," Audrey refutes, "and even if he were, what then? Does that mean he can't care about people— his country?"

"You can't be moral without God."

"Maybe not if you're a psychopath," Ben inserts.

Audrey stretches an arm out between the girl and him, "Ben is a good guy."

"His girlfriend assaulted you," she disbelieves.

"Yeah," Audrey states. "Not him. He saved me. Ben's not his girlfriend. He's good."

"His mother's a witch," she accuses.

Ben lets out a long breath, before Audrey denies, "His mother's not a witch."

"Then how did she turn that beast into a human?" the girl asserts.

Ben shakes his head, "I'm sick of hearing this." before he speaks up. "My mother didn't turn a beast into a man. She broke a curse that was placed onto a human."

She laughs it off, "With love, right?" as she smiles. "Whatever your parents have, it's not true love. Anyone can see that."

"It doesn't matter that it's not or that they're not absolutely perfect for each other," Ben defends. "For the curse to break, all that had to happen is for my father to love someone and earn her love in return. True love was never a requirement."

"Right," she shows her teeth. "Because your parents don't have true love; they have fake love. Because, their love is fake, and their entire relationship in built on a lie."

He takes a step forward with furrowed eyebrows, but Audrey pushes a hand against his chest, "Ben. Please."

"You don't know anything about my family," he grits his teeth.

"I know that your parents are lying about their story, that they've changed it over the years," she counters. "The story used to be that she took her father's place as a prisoner and eventually got to know the beast as a person, but now the story is that the beast let her roam free as though she wasn't a prisoner at all and that she fell in love with his so-called sweet and kind nature. Like anyone believes that." She grins, "No. I bet that sweet kindness she referred to was that even as a prisoner your father didn't have her locked in a cell the entire time and that her 'love' for him is nothing but a side effect of her Stockholm Syndrome." A noise escapes Ben's throat as he lurches forward, but Audrey tugs on the back of his shirt's collar and he begins to cough. "Did you just growl?" The blond laughs before giving Audrey a look, "Next time you decide to bring your dog, make sure he's on a leash."

Audrey watches the girl leave, "Don't mind her. She doesn't know what she's talking about." before she smiles at Ben with raised eyebrows. "You growl now?"

"Kind of. Yeah." He brings a hand to his throat, as he clears it. "Sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"Don't worry. You're completely forgiven," Audrey says as she crosses her arms. "Lauren can even get under my skin sometimes."

"She did have one thing right," Ben slowly comments, but when he faces Audrey he hesitates. "I am kind of an atheist."

It takes a moment for Audrey to confusedly state, "But you told me you were just agnostic, that you were waiting for proof that God exists."

"I did," Ben evenly responds, "but now I realize that it doesn't matter if God exists. I'm still not going to believe in the things He teaches."

"He teaches people to be good," Audrey defends.

Ben opens his mouth before saying, "His teachings led to my mother nearly being burned at the stake and states that hybrids are impure, demonic beings."

Audrey attempts to smile, "I don't think it actually says that last part."

"No," Ben accepts, "but it's how many Christians interpret it." He pauses. "It's how your family interprets it." He sees her about to speak, "Your mother called my girlfriend an it, just because she's a hybrid. Would that make me an it too?"

She sighs, "If they knew about you, they would have never said that." She glances down for a second. "At least, not in front of you."

"Great. So, they can just think I'm a monster behind my back."

"No. That's not what I'm saying," Audrey denies.

Ben shakes his head, "Never mind." before he looks over the room. "What can I do?"

She partly smiles, "Come with me. You can help me hand out orange juice and sandwiches."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he follows her to the long stretch of white, plastic tables.

* * *

\- That's it for tonight. I hope you enjoyed.


	101. Transition of Power

**Transition of Power**

 **(Day 64-65: Sunday Afternoon-Monday Afternoon)**

Ben stops and then slowly steps up a few more of the white, stone stairs, as he hears his father yell, "She isn't a girl. She's a monster."

"Adam," his mother patiently responds.

"I just don't understand why he can't just leave his options open." Ben can hear how much his father is trying to hold back his anger, the ridged pauses and tenseness of his words. "He should be dating some nice princess, not that devil's daughter."

"He loves her," she tries to reason.

"He's sixteen," his father shouts. "He doesn't know what the fuck love even is." He sees the black haired maid step next to him, holding an armful of towels, and he stretches his arm out in front of her, before she looks at him and he motions for her to be quiet. "Hell. I know I didn't know what it was."

"Adam. That's just because you didn't have a set example."

Ben eyes the dining room again, but the wall is in the way of where his parents are. "He should be dating a nice, moral girl who doesn't cause negative publicity."

"Like Audrey," his mother skeptically comments.

"Yes— No," his father quickly answers before taking a deep breath. "Just, you know… A girl who doesn't cause trouble. Someone he can settle down with, someone that can make his life the best it can be."

"And you think Mal can't do that?"

"I think," Adam slowly states, "that Ben deserves a girl who can give all of herself to him. He doesn't deserve this loose, fairy dragon— whatever she is."

"I don't understand," Ben's mother replies. "Do you not like the girl because she has a sexual history, or do you not like her because she has magic? Or something else?"

"How about everything," he shouts again, and Ben can almost see his mother roll her eyes, as he hears a loud, annoyed breath escape her. "Not only does she have magic and not only is she—" There's a pause, and Ben predicts that it's because his father is raising an arm up to gesture. "That girl has been with other girls. Hell. She may still be. You saw his interview, how he said he talked with Evie and had set those—" His father spats, "Conditions." Ben hears the footsteps, "You can't honestly say that this monster is what you want for our son."

"You forget," his mother points out, "that my father didn't take very kindly to you either." and then there's brief silence. "She makes him happy. Isn't that all that matters, is that we're happy?"

He hears his father calm down, letting out a long breath. "She may make him happy now, but who's to say that they will be happy ten years from now?"

"They're still young," his mother notes. "And he doesn't have a time limit like you did. Just give it some time. If it works out, then great. If not… at least she's making him happy at this current time." She urges, "We need to focus on the moment; we need him to be happy in this moment."

"I want him to be happy longer than a moment," his father softly speaks. "I don't want him investing in this— in someone who's not going to invest the same amount in him."

"King Ben," the maid speaks up.

Ben nods, before he whispers, "You can go now." and with that he trails back down the stairs to his office, deciding that the soda can wait.

* * *

When Ben opens the door to the dorm his jaw drops at the sight of his mother standing over Doug near the table. She lets out a breath of relief, "Thank God, you're okay." before she continues with a slight sternness. "Where've you been? I've been calling you."

"I was with the councilor," Ben explains as he comes in and shuts the door. "My phone is still off from class." He sees his mother place a hand to her forehead. "Why? What's going on?"

"This." She holds out a yellow, lined paper, "The maid found this in your office today."

Ben notices the large words he had scribbled and then underlined in frustration, "I thought the maids didn't know French."

"Well, lucky for me," his mother stresses, "she thought it seemed important enough to invade your privacy and look up."

Ben stares at the paper for a moment, "I know it looks bad." before he wets his lips. "But I never intended to kill myself. It was just a game."

"A game?" his mother raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

"It was just that," Ben softly speaks, "you know, that everyone just wants me dead. So…" He frowns up at her, "I'm sorry. I never imagined you would see it."

She stares at him with sad eyes, "You scared me, you know."

"I know."

She steps forward, "And you're still scaring me."

"Mom," Ben says, before the tears leave her eyes and she wraps her arms around him.

He shuts his eyes as he takes in her scent, "I would never want to hurt you."

"You can't leave me," she cries. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Ben's frown deepens, before she lets go of him. "You have my word. I don't plan on leaving you any time soon."

"At all," she makes him promise.

"At all," he repeats. "I'm sorry, Mom."

She lets out a breath, "If your father knew about this—"

"You're not going to tell him," Ben's voice raises in worry.

"Of course, not," she nearly laughs. "You know we can't have him trying to take back the thrown, not with how it impacts his health."

Ben glances down, "Mother." before he sighs. "About that." He notices a hint of worry in her expression. If he turns back now, he could see her smile again; however, he knows he has to tell her. He wets his lips again, "I, uh." He gestures unsurely, "I don't think he's better."

"What are you talking about?"

Ben notices Doug watching intently, before he states with conviction, "I don't think he's better, not even better than he was before. I think he's still stressed, maybe even more so."

It takes a minute for his mother to excuse, "Retirement can be stressful for some people." before she places a hand on his shoulder. "Just give him some time to learn to enjoy it. When he does, it will be best for everyone."

Ben eyes past her for a second in hesitance, "I… I don't think he wants to be better."

His mother uneasily smiles, "What are you talking about, Ben? Of course, he does."

"Then why does he keep involving himself in official matters?" Ben questions, before he asserts, "If he really wanted to be better, then he would be trying to enjoy retirement. But I don't think he's even accepted it. He keeps getting involved. He keeps stressing about it all."

He watches his mother offer him a look of worry. "Honey." She begins to speak in French, "Has something happened?"

"Nothing specific," Ben switches as well. "I'm just… I'm worried. I'm worried that this plan we had to cause him less stress has actually made things worse."

"Has he become worse?" his mother questions.

Ben almost speaks, but the breath escapes his mouth as he lifts a shoulder, "It's hard to say. Yes and no, I suppose. He's just… he's different. And yet… he's not." He shakes his head, "I'm not making any sense."

She places her hands on his shoulders, "I understand that this transition of power must be very hard on both you and your father. It makes sense that he would be different, but of course it's not going to change how he processes things." She pauses, "For now, just be patient."

"I'm terrible at being patient," Ben warns.

His mother offers an uneasy expression, "Yes, but it is better if you are. It's going to take some time for your father to realize that he doesn't need to concern himself with so much anymore." She hesitates, "And, if anything does happen…" She looks away for a moment, before she attempts to smile, "I hope you do know that you can come to me."

"Mom," Ben attempts to explain, before he slightly shakes his head. "Sometimes there's so much that happens or so much to explain that it becomes nothing, where it becomes that there is nothing to say."

"Then find a way to explain it," she stresses.

It takes a moment for him to say, "Sometimes there are no words for it. How can I explain it if— if it's something that just happened? I mean, when you trip you don't just stop everything you're doing. No. You get right back up and continue running or walking. It's something that just happened." He makes a noise, "There are no words for it."

She frowns, "It's important that you find a way to tell me these things."

Ben slightly shakes his head, "I can't stop my life to tell you whenever something inconvenient happens."

"When it comes to your father, you should," she quietly urges.

He lifts a shoulder, "I'll try to be more vocal about it, I guess."

The corners of his mother's frown rise, but her eyebrows still furrow in sad worry, "I'm just so glad you're safe." She kisses him on the forehead, "I've got to go now, but, please, take care of yourself."

Ben attempts to smile back, "I will."

After Ben's mother leaves Doug questions, "What was that about?"

"Hmm?" Ben asks.

"The French," Doug clarifies. "What was that about?"

Ben looks down for a moment, "We were just discussing my father's health."

"Something about stress, right?" he unsurely assumes. "That's why you and your mother don't want him to take the crown back." Ben gives a look. "Is it a heart problem? People with heart problems are often told to reduce stress."

He lets out a breath, "I really can't talk about it."

"I'm not a reporter," Doug slowly comments. "You can talk to me, you know."

It takes a second for Ben to assert, "Not about this."

"Are you at least talking to the councilor about it?" Ben looks away. "If there's something going on with your father's health, then it must be affecting you. You should be able to talk about it with at least someone."

"That would be unwise of me," he states.

"Why?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He lets the breath out before shaking his head, "I don't know why, okay? It just feels wrong to talk about it."

"Okay," Doug slowly accepts.

Ben sighs before sitting down at the table, "Can you help me with my psychology vocab?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Thanks," Ben breathes before he hands over his notebook and goes to go grab a soda from the mini fridge.

* * *

\- Thank you to **DeathCrawler** for breaking the silence. Your comments may typically be short and not very specific; however, since no one else has really commented over the last couple weeks it made me feel better and less insecure and paranoid, which is very nice of you. Seriously. Thank you. Also, a **guest** commented to congratulate me on reaching a 100 chapters. I would like to tell that person thank you, but I would also like to say that for me the real testament of my writing will be if I can complete this fanfiction with 200 chapters or less. Now, I completely suck at outlining, but I think I've situated things enough where I can end the fic at 200 chapters. So, if you've made it this far, congrats. Assuming things go to plan, you should be at least halfway done. (Not saying that everything is going to end all neat and tidy. There are a few plot points I wanted to extend into the next fic; however, this should end on a relatively calm or somber note. Yes. A nice, sad ending for everyone... I think I warned you, but I'm not entirely sure... I sorry?)


	102. Truths and a Dare

**Truths and a Dare**

 **(Day 65: Monday Night)**

"So, this is the new girl you've been talking about," a black haired guy comments as he comes into the dorm.

"Yeah," Chad answers. "Isn't she a beauty?"

"Shut up," Carlos comments, before he slaps the notebook against Chad's chest. "Here's your Chemistry assignment."

Chad grins, "Thanks. I'll get right on it." as he starts transferring it to another notebook in his own writing.

"Don't thank me," Carlos mumbles. "Thank that Weird Science class we had at Dragon Hall. There's no way I'd be able to do your Chemistry if we didn't have that."

"What about English?" Chad questions.

"English?" Carlos worries.

"The paper," Chad gives him a look.

"Well. I mean…"

"You did do the paper," Chad asserts.

Carlos uneasily responds, "I did not not do the paper."

"So, you finished it?"

"Not exactly," he slowly states.

"It's due tomorrow," Chad sternly reminds him.

"I know," Carlos remembers.

He shakes his head, "I know we already established that you don't do this on purpose, but I'm going to ask again. Do you do this on purpose?"

"No. Of course, not," Carlos breathes.

"You'd better finish it," Chad's roommate warns, "or else that pretty picture of you won't be so secret anymore."

After Chad points over towards him Carlos promises, "I'll get it done. I just—" but then he sees the orange bottle behind the roommate. "What is that?"

The roommate looks behind himself in confusion, before he laughs, picks up the prescription, and then throws it towards Chad, "You can explain these yourself. I've got to fly."

"Thanks. Really," Chad widens his eyes at him.

"Hey." He puts his hands up, "I'm not the one leaving your dirty laundry out." before he smiles and exists the room.

"What is it?" Carlos questions again.

"Hell," Chad rolls his eyes. "Who are you going to tell, right?" He shifts in his seating to face him, "It's a type of morphine."

"Morphine?" Carlos asks in confusion.

"A pain killer," he explains. "I started using it after my ankle got hurt a few months back. I was using cortisone so that I could continue playing, but I found that after it wore off my ankle hurt even worse." He lifts up the bottle and smiles, "So, I got this to even myself out."

"Wait." Carlos pauses, "If your ankle got hurt a few months back, then why are you still taking this?"

Chad frowns, "My ankle still hurts." before he forces a smile. "Plus, nothing relieves stress more than this." He offers, "Would you like one?"

"No," Carlos slowly answers. "I'm very sure I would not like one."

"Suit yourself."

He watches in disbelief as Chad opens the bottle and takes two of the pills, "Are you taking them because you need to or because I reminded you they exist?"

"Both," Chad immediately answers. "I normally take a couple in the morning and at night, but I normally don't take them in front of other people. So, if you didn't know, then I wouldn't have taken them in front of you."

Carlos slightly shakes his head back-and-forth, "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with you, Mr. I-Keep-Not-Doing-Things-I'm-Supposed-To-Be-Doing?"

He looks away in contemplation before looking back down at the textbooks and notebooks, "Look. I came here to give you your homework and whatever, so can we just get that over with already so that I can leave?"

"What's the rush?" Chad smiles. "You don't like me?"

"I don't not," he shifts his eyes, "not like you." Chad laughs and keeps looking at him. "You're weirding me out. Stop it."

"Whatever you say Mr. I-Can't-Finish-Things-On-Time," Chad says before continuing to transfer the assignment.

"I said I would finish that tonight," Carlos defends.

"How about a little truth or dare?" Chad questions

"What? Now?"

"Hell yeah. Why not?" He continues to copy the assignment, "Unless you're afraid."

"What would I be afraid of?" Carlos doubts.

Chad makes a face, "I don't know. You're the one that doesn't want to play."

"We can't play," Carlos reasons. "You're… writing."

"Yes, we can." He pauses, "We ask each other truth questions, and if we don't answer then we have to do a dare."

"You're being ridiculous," Carlos comments.

Chad looks up at him, "Call me curious," before he looks him over. "Have you ever done someone's homework before?"

Carlos frowns, "Maybe once. Or twice… I don't know. It was the Isle. Homework was more or less optional."

"Explain."

"Well," he unsurely states, "you either had to be really good at doing it or really good at not doing it." Chad hums. "What about you? How long have you had people doing your homework for?"

"Since I started to get into sports." He flips the notebook page and mindlessly continues copying, "Around middle school. I just don't see to point in working on something out of class that I was already supposed to learn in class." Carlos observes him. "It's just such a time waste. You know?" He looks up at him for a moment, "Maybe you don't know." before he raises his eyebrows and gets back to work. "What about girlfriends? Have you ever had a girlfriend before or are you actually married to your homework?"

"Ha ha," Carlos comments with disdain.

"Answer," Chad commands. "Or else you get a dare."

Carlos rolls his eyes, "No. I've never dated anyone before."

"What about hookups?" Chad asks. "Any of those?"

"Hey," he irritably speaks up. "It's my turn." It take a minute for him to sigh, "Have you had any hookups?"

"Define hookup."

"Sex," Carlos immediately responds. "Have you ever had sex before?"

"Orally, yes. Intercourse, no." He finishes the assignment and looks up at Carlos, "What about you? Have you ever had sex before?"

"Yes," Carlos admits, before he hurries to hand over a worksheet. "History." Chad smiles as he takes out his own worksheet, and it takes another minute for Carlos to ask, "Is it true that your assistants usually do more than your homework?"

Chad laughs, "Why do you think Audrey didn't want a girl to be my assistant?"

"You said she was afraid you would cheat on her," he answers, but Chad doesn't clarify any further. "Why am I your assistant?"

"Because. You're desperate, and I have proof of your secret."

"My secret?" Carlos insecurely comments.

Chad gives him a look, "The picture, doofus."

"Oh. That," he breathes in relief.

"So. How many people have you had sex with?"

It takes a moment for Carlos to answer, "One." before he uncomfortably pretends to clear his throat and changes the subject. "What's your favorite color?"

"Blue and gold," he hurriedly answers, before he finishes copying the worksheet and smiles up at Carlos. "This person you had sex with. What's the name?"

Carlos narrows his eyes, "I'm not answering that."

"Then you have to do a dare," he warns him.

"I don't care," Carlos nearly shouts. "I shouldn't have to give out details about my sex life." Chad grins. "Go on. Do your worst."

Chad nods, "Alright. Okay." and he glances down at the table only for a second, remaining just as confident when his attention returns to Carlos. "I dare you to kiss me."

"What?" Carlos frowns in disbelief.

"You heard me."

He hesitates, "You have a girlfriend."

"Well, I won't be the one doing the kissing, will I?" Chad reasons, and with another moment of hesitation Carlos leans forward, pressing his lips against Chad's, before they release and he pulls back. Chad's eyebrows rise, "I can't believe you did that."

"You kissed back," Carlos notes.

"Reflex," Chad excuses, shrugging it off.

Carlos gives him a look, "Are you high right now?"

Chad laughs, "No. I'm not."

"Then why? Why make me do that?"

He makes a face, "I just wanted to see if you would." before he laughs. "But I didn't think you would actually do it." He looks over him again, "Have you ever kissed a guy before?"

"Yes," Carlos mumbles, glancing down. "What about you?" He gauges his expression, "Have you ever kissed or been kissed by a guy before?"

Chad's smile widens, "Never."

Carlos grumbles, "I should go." before he stands and gathers his books.

"Now, don't be like that." Chad grabs his arm, "Stay."

"Why? Why should I?" Carlos frustrates. "You got what you wanted. I'm just some faggot, and you probably recorded that whole thing so that you can have even more information to use against me."

Chad frowns, "I didn't record anything."

Carlos shakes his head, "I don't believe you."

"Why would I record something that would get me in trouble?" Chad questions, and with that Carlos silences. He lets go of his arm and nods down to the seat, "Come on. Sit." With a sigh, Carlos does as he's instructed. "Have you ever kissed a girl before?"

"What's it to you?" he whispers.

"We're playing truth or dare," Chad answers. "So, answer the question."

Carlos looks away before irritably responding, "No. I haven't." and then after a moment of silence he looks back at Chad. "Be honest. Are you recording this?"

"No. I'm not," Chad sincerely states, and with that Carlos relaxes slightly. "You've had sex with a guy before?"

"Yes," Carlos admits, and after Chad nods he questions, "Why do you care about who I've had sex with?"

"I'm just curious," he answers, but he pauses before asking, "Would you ever do sexual favors for cash?"

"For money?" Carlos widens his eyes, and then Chad nods in confirmation. "How much money would it be?"

"You tell me." Chad inquires, "How much money would it take for you to give me a blow job, if I were to ask you?"

Carlos gives a skeptical look, "Twenty dollars." and Chad smiles. "But why would you need me? You have a girlfriend."

Chad unsurely clenches his teeth, "I love my girlfriend. I do. But Audrey has this pesky, little thing where she doesn't believe in sex before marriage."

"So, you would cheat on her?" he assumes.

"It's not cheating if it's with a guy," Chad reasons.

Carlos gives a look, "I'm pretty sure it is," and when Chad doesn't speak he continues. "I just mean, what kind of logic makes you think that it's not cheating?"

"Easy," Chad answers. "Guys can't be with guys. Like, a guy can't date a guy; therefore, a guy can't cheat on a girl with a guy."

"And who says a guy can't date a guy?" Carlos doubts.

"The government," he informs, and then Carlos's expression falls. "I looked it up. It's illegal or some shit."

"It's illegal for two guys to date?"

"Well, I mean, no. Sodomy is." He gestures, "Two people of the same sex having sex is. Which is why I can't cheat on Audrey with a guy, is because who's going to date someone they can't fuck, right?"

Carlos gives him a look, "You are. Right now. With Audrey."

Chad's mouth opens wide, before he slowly states, "Oh. Right." but then he shakes it off and smiles. "Never mind that. Are you in or not?"

He narrows his eyes at him, "You're asking me to break the law."

Chad shrugs, "I don't see what the big deal is if you're already doing it, but if breaking the law is suddenly an issue for you then I can just pay you sixty instead."

Carlos stares at him for a minute, "You're serious about this."

"Very," Chad confirms.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in stress, "How do I know you're not going to get me in trouble with this?"

"Because it would be getting me in trouble too," Chad blatantly answers, but Carlos doesn't speak. "Look. It shouldn't be an issue so long as no one finds out, and I know I don't plan on telling anyone. What about you? Do you plan on telling anyone?"

"No," Carlos says without thinking.

"Good," Chad smiles. "Now. Go lock the door."

Carlos glances between him and the door, "What? Now?"

He gives him a stern look, "Do you want that twenty dollars now or later?"

"Sixty," Carlos reminds him.

"Fine. Sixty," Chad agrees. "Do you want it now or later?"

"Now is good," he unsurely responds.

Chad grins, "Then go lock the door, bitch, and then come service me." Carlos does as he's commanded, before he walks back over to Chad and moves the chair out of the way. "On your knees." Carlos kneels in front of him and looks down, as Chad unzips his pants; however, then Chad stops and lays a hand on Carlos's shoulder. "You do know you don't have to do this, right? Like, I won't post that picture if you don't."

Carlos looks up at him, "I know." and then Chad nods once in acknowledgement before they continue.

* * *

\- Three things I like about this chapter: 1) How much of an "idiot" Chad is. 2) How submissive Carlos is. 3) How "mean" Chad is to Carlos... Don't worry. Most of the stuff with them should be behind the scenes... Well, at least until when it gets to Jay.

\- **Next Up (Spoiler, I guess)** : the last chapter for the trial. The chapter after that one will either be a scene with Evie and Doug while Ben and Mal are elsewhere or just skipping that, assuming that it happened, and getting straight to Ben's dinner date with Mal. Let me know if you would prefer the scene between Evie and Doug to be skipped or not. It may take a week for the trial chapter to be written, just because those ones have tended to be very long, so you have until that chapter is posted to give your answer as to whether you want to skip to the dinner date or not.


	103. The Verdict

**The Verdict**

 **(Day 66: Tuesday Morning)**

"Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth or so help you God?"

Ben places his hand on the King James Bible, "I so solemnly swear."

"He's an atheist," a girl in the crowd shouts, and when Ben looks to see who it is he's surprised to see that it's neither the girl from the church charity nor anyone else he knows.

When the guy holding the bible up to him gives a questioning look Ben glances to the news camera and then down at the podium for a moment, before he breaks the silence, "I'm the son of a decursed beast and someone who's been accused of being a sorceress countless times, who also just so happens to be dating a dragon hybrid. I think it's safe to say that I'm already going to Hell, assuming that it does exist. Which I'm sure will make at least two hundred of my citizens very happy." He makes a circular gesture, "Also, may I just say that this is the worst possible way to promise someone to be honest. Because, by doing this not only are you assuming that the person believes in God. You're also assuming that they're Christian." He places a hand on his chest, "What if I were Jew or Muslim? This bible would be completely inaccurate to swear upon. No." Ben announces, "I have a much better idea." before he smiles. "I swear on my crown that I will not lie nor maliciously mislead, as the current law currently states that any royal who knowingly and willingly lies on the stand will be guilty of perjury and will therefore have their title revoked." Ben looks around the room, "Everyone okay with that?"

Audrey's lawyer offers a shrugful facial expression, which includes raised eyebrows and widened eyes, "I'm fine with it."

"Okay, then," the judge speaks. "The questioning may begin." He nods down towards the plaintive, "You may start."

Audrey's lawyer stands from the table and walks up to Ben, before he smirks at him, "Is it true that you're an atheist?"

"Relevance," Mr. Droit stands from his seat.

The black haired lawyer turns towards the judge, "It's relevant. By determining whether he believes in God, we can determine how moral he is."

The judge furrows his eyebrows at him as he stretches an arm out to Ben's podium, "He's a human being. Morality is ingrained in his soul." before the judge closes his hand and places it over his heart. "And he swore on his crown. What more do you want?" The grey eyed lawyer stays silent. "Well. Proceed."

Audrey's lawyer turns back to Ben, "How much of the attack did you see?"

"I did not see the entirety of the incident," Ben carefully answers. "I asked Mal what she was doing the moment I entered the room." He nods down, "She didn't say much."

"What did she say?" he questions.

Ben smiles, "She complemented me on how hot I was. She didn't say a lot of anything else… She wasn't in her right mind."

"And what state of mind would you say she was in?"

It takes a moment for Ben to answer, "Just by seeing how she was behaving… I would say it was very instinctual. I don't think she was doing a lot of thinking."

"If the behavior was instinctual, then wouldn't that mean that it's in her instinct to hurt people?" the lawyer insinuates.

"Not necessarily," Ben furrows his eyebrows as he evenly counters. "She needed heat. Her instinct told her that Audrey had it. That's all it may have been."

"But that may not be all that it was?" he devices.

It takes a minute for Ben to answer, "I am not Mal. I wasn't in her position the night of the incident. There's no way I could know the entirety of the circumstances, and sadly, if she doesn't remember much, then neither does she."

The lawyer nods, "How well do you know this Mal Bertha?"

Ben glances down as he thinks, "Mal is not a very open nor trusting person, quite understandably, due to the environment in which she grew up, so I don't know her has well as I do other people; however, what I do know is that she has good intent and that she wants to be good. She's been trying to be good."

"Clearly, her trying wasn't good enough," the lawyer opinionates. "If she's really been trying to be good and has good intentions, then how do you explain what she did? Do you think that what she did to Princess Audrey was a good thing?"

Ben can't help but give him a look of annoyance, "You know you're not supposed to use Audrey's title, right? No one's using mine." No one speaks up, so he takes a deep breath and then answers, "Look. Mal is new here. If she was truly running on instinct, then that means she was acting based on what has been ingrained in her from her time on the island. If she wasn't thinking, then that means she couldn't have stopped to think about where she is now and what the possible consequences, assuming she even knew there would be any, could be."

"So, you don't think that what your girlfriend did was wrong?"

"I think," Ben bypasses, "that Mal had no way of contemplating what was right or wrong at the time of the incident. If she truly was not in her right mind, then that means that she truly wasn't herself and that the actions she took that night should not be a reflection of who she is."

"But the fact of the matter is," the lawyer states, "that the actions she took did happen. You say that it was just her instinct and that it wasn't her, but what's stopping her from acting on her instinct again? What's stopping her from hurting someone again?"

Ben hears the panel of judges hum and whisper, and then he takes a relaxing breath before calmly speaking, "Mal wasn't well. She wasn't herself. She was in desperate need of heat, a necessity to her. We don't criminalize the homeless when they steal bread from a church. Why should we criminalize Mal trying to get what to her is a necessity to live?" He pauses, but he makes sure the pause is short enough so that the lawyer can't question him. "It is highly unlikely the incident in question would have happened had she been properly kept heated, had she not waited until the last moment to get heat."

It takes a moment for the lawyer to point out, "But she did, and she had other ways of getting heat. She didn't have to attack the princess."

"Mal is not the problem," Ben insists. "It's her upbringing, the place she comes from. All four of the people who came from the island have had their issues, and it's not because of who they are or what morals they were or were not taught." He swallows and blinks, before more words escape him, "They've never had the luxury of having proper access to necessities or having an excess amount of those necessities to indulge in. Whether it be food, clothes, shelter— or in Mal's case, heat— they're not used to being able to have those things. They use their resources sparingly. God, one of them didn't even own deodorant until last week." Ben shakes his head, "They don't know they can have these things if only they ask for them, and the sad thing is that because of their lack of trust they have a hard time asking for help of any kind." He takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep the tears at bay, "Mal waited until the last minute to get heat, because she's not used to being able to have it any time she wants or in whatever amounts she needs. She's probably afraid to ask for it, because she's afraid of asking for help in general. And as far as what she did to Audrey, it was because she's so used to resorting to desperate measures that her instinct told her it was okay to do that desperate thing." A couple tears fall from his eyes, "Honestly, I believe that had she kept her heat up more regularly, then it's entirely possible that this incident and whatever harm it may have caused would have never happened."

* * *

"The defendant is recalled to the stand."

When Mal sits at the podium Audrey's lawyer states, "You have claimed that you are a hybrid of fairy and dragon descent, and not only that but that your dragon descent is from real fire-breathing dragons with scales and horns and wings."

After it's clear the lawyer has stopped speaking Mal comments, "Yes?"

"But you have no evidence of it, do you?" he confidently insists.

Mal gives him a look, "A lot of people here have seen my mother turn into a dragon."

The lawyer scoffs, "Everyone knows that your mother's ability to turn into a dragon came from her staff, The Dragon's Eye. It had the dark magical power to turn her into a dragon. She was never actually able to do it herself."

"No," Mal slowly states. "She did turn herself into a dragon. That staff was only ever used to enhance her fairy magic. It had nothing to do with her dragon heritage."

"Then why is the staff called The Dragon's Eye?"

Mal scrunches up her eyebrows, "Something about how my mother's father, who was a dragon, had his spirit put in the stone or something?" Her voice raises, "I don't know. How am I supposed to know? He died a long time ago."

"Oh, so your grandfather, the dragon, died, now," the lawyer restates. "If he's dead, then there's no way to prove his existence. How convenient."

"How convenient," Mal leans forward, "that a little human is Audrey's lawyer." She grits her teeth, "It's because of you that my grandfather is dead. You're the reason my mother was orphaned at fourteen years old and left to fend for herself after your kind killed her mother. And now you have the nerve to say he never even existed."

"I wasn't the one who killed them," the lawyer tries to reason.

Mal spits in his face, "You might as well have." before he takes out a handkerchief and collectively wipes the substance from his face. "You're just like the rest of them: arrogant and so afraid of the unknown that you're willing to kill anyone you don't understand."

"I didn't kill anyone," he stresses.

Mal glares at him, "You should all just die off. The rest of us would be a lot safer without you being around."

Ben stands from his seat and yells, "Mal." and when she turns toward him he continues. "Your eyes. Settle down."

Mal fully sits back in her seat and shuts her eyes as she tries to settle her breathing, before the judge looks down at Ben, "Your girlfriend just said that all humans should die. What do you have to say to that?"

"She's just upset. She didn't mean it," he tries to reason. "Her grandparents were murdered, her mother orphaned, and now he questions if her family even existed?" Ben places a hand to himself, "I know I'm not terribly thrilled that my father was orphaned. That kind of thing leaves an impact, deep seeded effects that can last generations." He folds his hands together, "Please, take pity on her. What she was born as and the life she was given isn't her fault. She needs help. Condemning her for this specifically would only make things worse."

The judge is quiet for a moment, before he looks back down at the lawyer, "Do you have any other questions for the defendant?"

"Yes. I—" He panics, "I can't feel my face. Why can't I feel my face?" He widens his eyes at Mal in horror as he grits his teeth, "What did you do to me?"

"It's called dragon venom," Mal loudly states. She shrugs it off, "Don't worry. It will wear off… eventually." before she partly smirks. "How's that for proof of what I am?"

The lawyer irritably responds, "No further questions Your Honor." before he shakes his head and returns to his table.

The judge comments, "The defendant may return to her seat." and when she does he announces to the room. "We will now have closing statements." He nods down at Mr. Droit, "What does the defense have to say?"

Mal's lawyer stands, "Your Honor, my client had no ill intent when it came to the incident. We plead not guilty, calling for a plea of temporary insanity. The need for heat made it so that she was not in her right mind. What happened was not her fault."

After he sits Audrey's lawyer stands, "Your Honor, suggesting that the defendant's attack on the princess wasn't her fault just because she wasn't in her right mind is an outrageous claim. If someone who was mentally ill poisoned the king, would we not still press charges for the king's murder? The hybrid needs to take responsibility for what she did and accept the appropriate punishment."

The judge nods, "I will speak with the panel, and after we reach a consensus I will come back and give the verdict. In the meantime, there will be a fifteen minute recess."

After he pounds his gavel and the panel of judges leave Ben grabs Mal and pulls her to the private room, shutting the door behind them. She looks at him, mouth open, before he gestures, "What was that?" Mal begins to speak; however, no words come out, so Ben explains, "Why did you say all humans should die? Do you really feel that way?" Mal looks away for a moment before she takes a step forward, but when she does Ben takes a step back. "My mother is human."

"I know that," Mal quietly says, and then she tries to step forward again. "Look. It's not—" She lets out a breath, "Jay is human. It's not like that. It's just…"

"Just what?" Ben irritably prompts.

It takes a second for her to say, "It's not about the humans who treat me nice. When they're nice, I can forget what I am. But when they're not…" She glances down, "It's like I'm an outsider, and I'm suddenly reminded of how different humans are: everything my mother said about them—"

"Your mother was wrong," Ben voices.

"So, you're going to tell me that humans aren't self-centered?" She takes another step forward, "That they don't kill just because they're afraid?"

Ben breathes as he offers a sad look, "All species are like that. It's about survival. It's not just humans who do that." Mal doesn't speak. "The reality is," Ben states, "that even if this trial goes well…" He steps forward and places a hand on her upper arm, "Mal. I really wanted you to be my future queen, but if you're so hateful of and fear humans so much…" He shakes his head, "Seventy-five percent of the people I serve are human. What you said— If they disapprove of us…" He looks at her with sad eyes, "What you said could hurt our chances at having a future together."

Mal shuts her eyes for a moment, "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

He swipes her wavy hair behind her ear and holds his hand near her cheek, "I really wanted us to be together."

"We still can be," Mal reassures. "This— Nothing has happened yet."

"And if it does?" He questions. "If people pressure—" His sentence drops, as he releases a breath a submission, "You know, even more than they already have?"

Mal's quiet for a second, "I would understand if you don't want to be with me anymore."

"No," Ben loudly objects, and then he places his other hand on her shoulder. "I don't want to give you up. I want you. But…" He wets his lips, "You're making it really hard for me to defend you."

"I know," she accepts. "I'm sorry."

"If this is going to work," Ben immediately replies, "then you need to try to be good."

Mal stares at him for a moment, "I've been trying."

"Then try harder," he stresses, and when he sees the hurt on her face as she turns away he lowers his voice. "I just really don't want to lose you." He moves his hand down near her chin and turns her head back towards him, "I want this to work." He lets out a breath and shuts his eyes for a second, before he annunciates, "I need this to work."

"I'll get better," Mal promises, but as she hears the words she had echoed to her mother, suddenly she feels as though she knows she won't.

Ben hugs her tight, kissing the back of her neck, "I love you so much."

"I know," Mal frowns in response, before she places an arm across his back. When the embrace ends she insecurely states, "I really care about you too."

"Something the matter?" Ben worries.

Mal forces a smile, "No." before she excuses. "I just really hope we can be together, that I won't be sent back to the Isle."

Ben frowns, "Even if you are…" He lifts a shoulder, "With college and everything— if it were to even take that long— I'm sure I could wait. And, you know, I could visit." He attempts to smile, "We could even skype. We could talk every day." He holds her hands, "It would be like nothing has changed."

Mal looks down, before she raises their held hands and she slowly states, "Except that we wouldn't be able to do this." Ben's smile slips. "I wouldn't be able to hug you, kiss you— be with you. And I wouldn't force Evie to come back with me. I'd tell her not to." She questions, "So, where would I be getting my heat from?" He doesn't answer, and she lets go of his hands. "I would have to be getting it from other people. I would either be cheating on you or… breaking Evie's heart." She gives him a pained look, "If I'm sent there, I don't want you to have to wait for me."

"But I will," Ben counters. "Even if you can't be faithful to me during your imprisonment, I will remain faithful to you."

Mal slightly shakes her head, "Why?"

"Because." Ben reminds her, "You make me feel whole, and I will always be yours." He smiles at her, and she tries to smile as they stare into each other's eyes; however, then the door opens and their attention is brought to it.

Evie looks between the two of them, "I'm not interrupting something. Am I?"

"No. Of course, not," Ben denies, before he nods towards his girlfriend. "I was just telling Mal in which ways we could continue communicating if she is to be convicted."

"Yes," Evie uneasily says. "Well, I, uh…" She darts her eyes between Mal and Ben before shutting them for a second, smiling with shiny eyes the next moment, simply saying, "Yes. Of course."

It's quiet before Mal comments, "You know, you can hug me, you know." before she turns to Ben. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No." He frowns, "Of course, not."

Evie's smile widens, as she slightly laughs and goes over to wrap her arms around Mal, "I so hope you get to stay."

When they release Mal requests, "If I don't, take care of my mom, please?"

"Of course," Evie nods.

"How old is your mother," Ben questions, and then the two of them stare at him. "It's just, the stuff with your grandparents, uh, I would just like a general timeline. To try to understand the situation better."

Evie turns to Mal, "What would you say, M? Three hundred going on a thousand?"

Mal makes a face and shrugs, "Sounds about right."

It takes a moment for Ben to state, "I'm being serious."

Mal chuckles, "And you think we're not?" and when his mouth gapes in silence she goes over to him and tugs out his tie. "Dragons have a very long lifespan." She pulls it, and he shuts his eyes as they kiss.

When the kiss ends he shakes his head and puts a hand up in between them, "Wait." but then he looks away as he hesitates. "What about you? Like, what does that mean for us?"

Mal makes an unsure expression before wrapping her arms over his shoulders, "Let's not think about that. Okay?"

"But—"

She interrupts him with another kiss, and he becomes stunned. "Worse case… You get to have a very young looking wife for your entire life." She raises her eyebrows, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No," Ben begins. "But—"

"But?" Mal whispers.

It takes a second for Ben to furrow his eyebrows, "I have nothing. I thought I did… but I don't."

"What a big surprise there," Evie sarcastically interrupts, and then they look at her. She nods up towards the wall clock, "It's time to go."

Ben looks up towards it, "So, it is." before he goes to open the door and smiles at Mal. "My lady."

Mal smiles as she leaves, but when Evie follows her she stops by Ben, looking him up and down with an open smile, "You might want to fix that."

"Hmm?" She eyes his tie again, and then he sees it, "Oh" He grins at her in embarrassment, "Thank you."

"Any time," Evie says before leaving, and Ben hurries to fix his tie before exiting the room and entering the courtroom.

After everyone takes their respectful seats they stare, as the judge takes his place and the room erupts with silence. He clasps his hands, "We have come to a very difficult conclusion." He looks between the two parties, "And that is that the defendant is guilty of attempted sexual assault." Ben hears his mother gasp and watches as she leans towards his father, who then wraps an arm around her in comfort. "Now," the judge speaks louder, "given that the defendant is indeed a minor and that this is her first recorded offense." Ben notices the judge look at him for a moment. "We have granted her leniency, and the panel has agreed that the appropriate punishment is to make sure this will never happen again." He looks down at Mal, "The defendant will be put on five months of probation, during which time she will not be allowed to leave the city of Auradon. The conditions of her probation are the following: she will take a class designed to help her understand the laws and resources available here, she will see a therapist at least once a week to help her get over her racism towards humans, and during each session the defendant will also show documentation of her body temperature, which will show at least two readings every day. If she does not comply with these conditions, then she will be placed in prison for a year with a five year probation thereafter." He eyes Mal, "Does the defendant understand?"

"I understand," Mal answers.

The judge nods, "After the trial you will be fitted for an ankle monitor, and by the end of the day you will have the names of your court appointed therapist and class instructor." He pounds his gavel, "Court is dismissed."

* * *

\- **danifan3000** Your comment is very insightful and accurate. I do have a scene planned where Audrey tries to set up a truce dinner between her family, Ben and his family, and Mal. I would say that based on what I thought up so far that things end pretty neutral, but that's just my opinion and it could change. Without any concrete written dialogue things could easily change, and even if they don't the readers will have to decide what they think for themselves. Let me know what you think about it when the time comes. (And, as always, thank you to everyone else for commenting as well).

\- **Help for a Future Fic** : So... I need your help with something I've had a hard time figuring out. So, if this fanfic eventually turns into a series, then eventually one character will die who I would like to die without injury or illness. I know. Sounds impossible, right? Here's the criteria: the death should be predictable, and they should be suffering through minimal pain. It can't be injury, because the person will be having injuries during the progressive death (It should be at least a few days or a week where people could visit them before they die). If it is sickness, I don't want it to affect the brain or circulatory system. I want them to be able to die as themselves... This would be a long ways from now— like a really long ways (possibly five fics from now)— so it's not a question in desperate need for an answer, but because my mind wandered down that storyline anyway I would like to know how the person would be dying, if it's even possible... I could give more details if it helps, but I really don't want to do it in the author's notes in case I do end up getting that far and someone decides to binge-read the fics for some reason. I would be surprised if someone could do that, but because I know some of you (you know who you are) have already done that with this fic, I don't want to take my chances... Also, it wouldn't be as easy as just erasing this paragraph, because I may not remember which chapter it's in at that point (if I get there)... Oh, yeah. One more thing: if it is from sickness, then it shouldn't be able to be solved with a transplant. The person would be powerful/rich enough and have a decent blood-type where it would probably be easy for them to obtain one.


	104. Reflections

**Reflections**

 **(Day 66: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"Hey," Evie comments as she walks into Doug's dorm.

Doug turns in his seat, "Hey."

Evie sits next to him at the table, "Mal and Ben needed to, uh, get reacquainted." before she looks at his laptop. "What's that?"

He quickly lowers the lid, "Nothing. It's, uh, nothing."

"Ah-hmm," Evie hums. "What? Did I interrupt something?"

"Interrupt?" Doug asks in confusion.

"Maybe you were looking at something to think of for later," she insinuates.

His mouth gapes, "Ah, no." before he uncomfortably smiles. "I was just, you know, researching and stuff." She smirks at him. "No. Really. I was."

"Then why don't you prove it?"

Doug sighs before lifting up the screen, and as he watches Evie glance over it he scratches his temple with a finger, "I thought I would just brush up on it. You know, because of relevance and such."

"How to talk to someone about an eating disorder," she disbelieves, before she turns towards Doug. "I don't need anyone to try and save me."

"Yes, you do," he denies. "This is dangerous stuff, Evie. Malnutrition. Bone loss. Heart palpitations."

"I know," she sternly interrupts.

It's silent for a moment, as he sadly stares at her, "You're so beautiful— and smart. Emotional issues or not, how could you do this to yourself?"

She's quiet for a minute, before she softly responds, "Because I am unsure of myself." She tries to smile, "That's what I like about you. You have this energy, like you know exactly who you are and you're completely content with it."

"Well, I mean," he lifts his glasses up and down, "I wouldn't say completely content, but—" He halts, as she kisses him. "Heigh-ho. What was that for?"

"For being you," she sweetly smiles. "You know, I was thinking we could work on some Chemistry together."

"Chemistry?"

Evie's smile widens as she takes her Chemistry book and notes from her dark blue bag, "Yes. The assignment is due tomorrow, and I've just been so distracted with everything…"

"Oh." Doug laughs it off, "Of course. The— The assignment."

"Do you think you could help me out?" Evie shows her whitened teeth, as she holds the pencil to her lips.

"Ah, yeah. Of course."

"Great," she immediately responds before opening the textbook. "Now. I've got the questions on anions and cations, but I don't understand how that's supposed to translate to these other things."

"Hold on," Doug lifts a hand. "I just remembered." When she looks at him he turns away for a second, "Can't your magic mirror tell you the answer?"

She laughs, "I can't rely on him for everything, silly. I need to actually learn this stuff."

"Him?" Doug questions.

"What?"

"You said him. Your magic mirror," he explains, "you called it a him."

Evie slowly shakes her head as she looks up, "No. I said it."

"I'm extremely sure that you called it him," Doug asserts.

She gives him a look, "Why would I do that? It's just a mirror." Doug doesn't respond, before she smiles again. "Come on. I know you can help me much more than a piece of glass."

* * *

"Maybe having dinner out wasn't a great idea," Mal comments as she notices the stares, wandering eyes, and phones.

"I promised you dinner," Ben reminds her, before they are guided towards the back. "Besides, I got us private seating." He moves her chair out and smiles, "My lady."

Mal nearly rolls her eyes as she sits down, "Thank you, but you really don't need to try that hard."

Ben sits down in his own seat, "I'm just being polite." and his expression falters. "It's supposed to be romantic."

She shrugs, "Yeah. Okay." as she shuts her eyes for a second. "It just seems…"

"Odd," he inserts.

"A little weird," Mal unsurely finishes. "I can sit down myself, and if I move the chair too then it would probably be faster."

Ben wets his lips, "If it bothers you, I can try not to do it."

It takes a minute for Mal to respond, "Maybe just not for something as simple as a date? It's not like this is an anniversary or anything. I mean, we're not celebrating anything."

"On the contrary," he smiles. "We are celebrating your release."

Mal slowly smiles, "I guess we are."

When the waitress comes in she questions, "The usual?"

"Yes," Ben answers.

"Soda, wine, or milk?"

Ben looks at Mal, "Do you like soda at all?"

"Never had it," Mal slightly furrows her eyebrows.

He turns back to the brunette, "Fat free milk should be fine."

"Hey," Mal interrupts, and when Ben looks at her again she stresses a smile. "Didn't you just say we were celebrating?" She glances up for a second, "I think I remember you saying that wine is used to celebrate."

Ben uneasily laughs and awkwardly grins, as he gestures, "You don't drink."

"What makes you think that I don't drink?"

"Because," he slightly frowns, "you didn't even touch the wine last time."

"I did too touch it," Mal denies.

Ben stares down at the silver cloth for a moment, before he turns back to the waitress, "The milk will be fine. Thank you, Bridget."

"What?" Mal disbelieves.

When Ben turns back to her he sees an almost hurt expression on her face, and then he takes her hand, "Look. I'm just trying to respect your wishes."

"Respect my wishes," Mal exasperates as she takes her hand from his.

"Yes." Ben reminds her, "Last time you didn't want to drink the wine. You said that just being together was enough."

"Okay, well, and now I'm saying," Mal tensely grins, "that I'd like some wine too."

Ben clasps his hands together, glancing down at them before he meets her eyes, "No."

"Why not?" she complains.

He takes a calming breath, before he slowly explains, "I don't want to say you're unwell, because I know that people don't like to hear that—"

"I'm not sick," Mal interrupts, but with a seemingly disappointed look from Ben, Mal silences as she feels a deep hole suddenly dig into her being.

"You're stressed," Ben softly speaks. "When people are stressed they are not themselves. They act different, and they regret the things they do during that time later."

Mal frowns, "It's just wine."

Ben is quiet for a moment, before he admits, "When I'm more stressed than usual I can drink an entire case of soda in a day— sometimes even an hour." He nods once, "Now, if I were to have ordered wine, how much do you think you could have gone through?"

She shakes her head, "You would have only ordered one bottle. One bottle wouldn't have hurt anything."

Ben hesitates, "I don't think that's true." before he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but you're not well and I'm not going to offer you something you previously denounced when you're unwell." He looks at her, "My answer is no."

Mal furrows her eyebrows, shaking her head, before she stands from her seat, "That's it. I'm out of here."

Ben grabs hold of her wrist, and when she turns back to see he sternly remarks, "Look. You can hate me all you want, but I need you to come sit down and eat with me."

"Why?" she counters.

"Because, you haven't had a decent meal in weeks," he asserts, before he lets go of her wrist, slightly shakes his head, and mumbles, "And, also, if you leave, I'll probably just end up eating the entire thing myself, and I really wasn't planning on doing that right now." Mal doesn't speak. "Please. Just have dinner with me. That's all I'm asking."

Mal looks towards the door arch and then back at him, "Okay. I'll have dinner with you."

* * *

"I still don't understand why you couldn't just let me walk home," Mal complains.

"I was coming back to the school too," Ben evenly answers. "It's just more practical."

When he knocks on the door Mal comments, "Yeah, but isn't walking me to my dorm just a little too much?"

"Just another thing that's supposed to be considered romantic," he answers before Evie opens the door. "I got you a gift," Ben jokes. "I hope you like it."

Evie smiles, "She looks very nice. Thank you." before she guides Mal inside. "Come on. I have the perfect movie for us to watch."

After Mal is safely inside Ben taps on Evie's shoulder, and when she looks back at him he whispers, "Mal hasn't really been herself tonight. Maybe you should keep an eye on her?"

Evie places her hand to his hair, "Oh, sweetie. We always look after the little dragon." before she moves the hand down to his chest and pushes him, causing him to stumble back a step. "You should know that."

Ben looks down for a moment, before he slowly comments, "You're still mad at me for not keeping an eye on her that night."

"Wow," she unenthusiastically comments. "You are perceptive."

"Look." He takes a step forward, "Had I known—"

"You would've done what?" she interrupts. "Not use that medicine? Not sleep?" Evie notices panic in his features, "You still haven't told her, have you?"

"She just got out of jail," he tries to reason.

Evie furiously whispers, "She's your girlfriend. She deserves to know."

"I will," Ben whispers back. "Just not right now."

"Then when?" she questions. "During your next sleepover? After she finds your stash? When you're married and she's with child? When?" Ben opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. "It is genetic, isn't it? At least a little, the whole no sleeping thing?"

"I mean, considering that my parents tried to give me the same supplement my father uses," Ben begins, before he justifies, "but it's probably just so bad because of stress or something. Like, because of the life I have, it makes the insomnia worse. I don't think the extent I have it would be genetic."

"So, that makes it okay for you not to tell your girlfriend?" Evie raises her eyebrows.

"I'm going to tell her," Ben reassures. "I just need to find the right time."

Evie nods, letting out a loud breath, before she looks over him, "What about your medical condition? Does she at least know about that?"

Ben shuts his eyes for a moment, "Evie."

"I knew it," she spats, before she shakes her head. "You need to tell her."

"I will," he promises. "Just not right now."

Evie huffs, "I swear, all you guys are alike." before she shuts the door on him.

"Like what?" Ben asks the door, but with no response he's forced to take a step back and head up to his dorm.

* * *

\- **Broken03** I'm so glad to hear you felt like you were reading a real court case in the last chapter. Because I don't have any personal experience with court, it was something I was a little insecure about. It's great to know that I didn't completely mess it up. Thank you for reading and commenting. Also, **Elizabeth Annette** thank you for saying you like my writing style. I know it's not for everyone, and even though I have gotten compliments on the story, I feel like the way that it's structured and written has unsettled or confused some people. It's a lot different than the traditional main character, sidekick(s), and one external plot with romantic subplot. I'm glad that someone has been able to keep up with it and enjoys the way it's written.

\- **DeathCrawler** Thanks for answering my question on how the person could die without illness or injury. I didn't think anyone would answer it, just because it isn't pertinent to this specific story... I think that because I didn't give out specifics that not all of the answers you gave are possible. To give out just a little more detail, it's not Mal or the others from the Isle that I was asking that question for... Actually, because Mal is the only remaining member of her hybrid species, I don't think an organ donation or blood transfusion would work that well, and, therefor, it would probably be really easy for her to die if she came about a situation where she'd need one of those things... I find this whole thing pretty interesting. If you feel like discussing any of these things further, then feel free to message me. I can go into detail there if you wish. If not, then you can just continue reading and commenting at your own leisure. I hope you're enjoying the story.

\- **Question** : So, I know I already covered this in the story, but I want to know what the realistic situation would be. In the story it's been stated that Evie's natural hair color was black but that her mother bleached it by force. If that were to happen in real life, does anyone know what her hair color would look like afterwards? Would it be hard to dye? And what about the overall damage: would it be hard to grow, and would there have been any remedies for the damage caused?... I know that the last question could probably just be looked up, but as far as the others go I think it would be hard to research. If anyone knows, then let me know. Thank you.


	105. I Can't Do It

**I Can't Do It**

 **(Day 67-68: Wednesday-Thursday Afternoon)**

"Well. It looks like the hour is about up." The blond asks, "Is there anything else you would like to say?"

"Yes, actually." Ben smiles and then laughs, before he continues in French, "It's kind of funny, really. You see, that condition you questioned me about before. It's like the hardest thing to deal with ever. In and out of the hospital, tons of medicine every day; it's just sickening, and I can't even tell anyone about it." He begins to speak faster, "I mean, people know. Some do, but no one is supposed to know and that's the thing. If my parents knew just how many people know about it, they'd be hysterical." and then he folds his hands. "And now Evie wants me to tell Mal? How am I supposed to do that, tell my girlfriend that I'm sick and that there's no guarantee that I'll ever get better? That she will have to watch me become terminally ill over and over, and that if it's not taken care of properly, I could very well die?" He gulps as his breaths shake, his speech slowing, "And if I somehow manage to tell her and if she's okay with it, then what? If my parents find out— They think that if this gets out, I could lose my right to the throne." He uneasily laughs, "Because, no one wants a sick ruler, right?" The timer goes off, and Ben stands from his seat, returning to English, "Wow." He releases a long breath, "That was really a load off. Thank you for listening. I feel so much better now. Really."

When he turns to leave the councilor comments, "You don't have to stop coming just because your required sessions are over, you know. If you need to discuss something, feel free to come back. I'm always here to help."

"Thank you," Ben twists back around for a moment, "but that won't be necessary."

She nods, "Okay, then. Have a very nice day."

"You too," Ben attempts to smile back, before he turns around again and exits the room.

* * *

The headmistress clasps her hands in front of her. "Do you think it's helped?"

Ben glances down, "I talked."

Fairy Godmother nods, "Yes. You did." before she carefully continues. "The councilor said that you said something in French right before the appointment ended."

He lets out a hesitant breath before explaining, "I just vented a little."

"In a language you knew she couldn't understand." Ben doesn't speak. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask what it was before I can conclude this experience was helpful to you."

It takes a second for Ben to admit, "I still haven't told Mal that I'm—" He wets his lips. "About my condition. And Evie really wants me to tell her. She thinks she deserves to know."

"Evie knows about it?"

"Yes," Ben confirms, but as he remembers it takes a minute for him to continue. "I got upset, my fever increased, and I asked her to get the medicine for me." He shakes his head, "And Mal does deserve to know. She does, but…" He lets out a hopeless breath, "I just don't think I could possibly tell her."

"Why not?" the headmistress inquires.

"Besides the fact that no one is supposed to know?" Ben frowns and then pauses. "I can't tell her. She has her own stuff to deal with. The last thing she needs is to get all worried over me." He breaths in frustration, "And the questions. The questions just never stop. I'm still getting them from Doug, and he found out about an entire month ago. Perhaps longer."

There's a moment of silence, "I understand why you wouldn't want to add your problems to hers, and you two have only started dating so you're not obligated to tell her; however, if you want to stay in this relationship with her, you will have to tell her eventually."

"It is only a matter of time," Ben admits. "One of these days I'm going to get ill again, and when I'm in the hospital she's going to wonder where I am. She's going to ask why she can't see me." He half laughs, "If I don't tell her, Evie will probably just end up doing it herself." and then he glances down. "It would hurt Mal, I think, to hear Evie tell her that I'm in the hospital due to this condition I've hardly told her anything about. It would be a lot to handle at once." He shuts his eyes for a second, "I should tell her while I'm well, but I just don't know how I'd be able to do it. She's my girlfriend, and she's a very serious person. I can't just get mad and blow it off or laugh about it. It's just— I can't do it."

"What do you think would be the hardest part of telling her?" Fairy Godmother asks.

Ben gulps and then uneasily laughs under his breath, "Probably admitting that I'm sick." and when he looks back at the headmistress he sees her listening intently. He looks at the wall behind her, "It's not something I've ever had to really get into before. It's not talked about. The people who have known just about my entire life, we can talk about it without talking about it. And for the people who just found out recently, I just give a quick answer and move on. But with Mal—" He lifts his thumbs up and down, before he uncomfortably smiles, "I would actually have to sit down and talk about it seriously with her. I just don't think I can do that."

He headmistress frowns with concern, "Ben." and she speaks with hesitance. "You talk of hospitals, and you say that you're afraid to admit to your condition." He looks away momentarily. "How serious is this condition of yours exactly?"

Ben gulps again, as he feels the tears intrude his eyes, "When left untreated? Life-threatening. Very life-threatening." He huffs a couple laughs, "I can't tell her that. I can't tell her that I could die from yearly sicknesses, just because my body temperature is already so high."

"Ben." Fairy Godmother reminds him, "You told me this wasn't that serious."

He recalls when he had told her his condition is nothing to worry about, "I did say that, didn't I?" He shifts his eyes, "I apologize. I wasn't trying to lie. It just—" He shallowly breathes before quietly continuing, "It does feel like nothing sometimes, like I have no right to complain." When she doesn't speak he elaborates, "It's just another thing that's going on in my life, and I don't have that bad of a life. It's just this one thing."

The headmistress softly responds, "This one thing could end your life." She watches him shift in his seating, before he looks down at his hands in contemplation. "What are you thinking about right now?"

Ben shakes his head as he looks back up at her, letting out a slightly stressed breath, "I'm just wondering how cancer patients do it. They're in and out of hospitals, like me. Take medication, like me. Except that they wouldn't have the energy, because their treatment actually lowers the immune system." He looks down, "And I think of when I'm in the hospital. I can barely move sometimes, and even when I'm out of the woods and everything is great… it's not over. It's just never over. And I wonder how other people can handle it, how other people can have the energy to fight a fight they know will be terribly long and that they may never win."

Fairy Godmother thinks for a moment, "Support is a good way. There are studies that show that when someone has support, they're more likely to survive than someone who doesn't."

Ben glances down before looking her in the eyes, "I don't."

"Some of your friends do know about it?" she questions.

"Yeah," Ben tiredly answers, "but I'm not supposed to talk about it. If they get worried they could tell more people, and if more people find out it could get leaked to the public. The people would see their king as weak. I could lose my job."

"That complicates matters," Fairy Godmother admits, before she warmly smiles at him. "But don't you want to be able to have people who can support you, have your girlfriend be able to be there to support you?"

Ben looks away for a second, "I'm not sure if Mal can even support herself right now." before he faces her again. "But I see your point."

She nods, before she adjusts some things on her desk, "I really should put this in your file. What was it again?"

"It's really just a high body temperature," Ben answers. "Write down hyperthermia. So long as no one mistakes it for hypothermia, it should be fine."

She jots it down in pen next to the typed words, "Thank you." before she smiles at him. "Is there anything more you would like to discuss?"

Ben slightly shakes his head, "Not really. No."

"Okay, then. I will let your mother know that you've finished the sessions." She nods up, "You may leave." Ben attempts to smile, but as he stands from his seat he loses his balance, shutting his eyes hard as he tightly grips the arm of the chair. "Are you okay?"

He hears panic in her worrying tone, and he irritably answers, "Yeah. I'm fine." as he sits back in the chair. "Just a little unsteady, stupid emotions and all that." He takes the tic-tac container from his pocket, "I usually keep Tylenol on me for emergencies." before he takes out three of the white ovals and downs them with the water from his blue plastic bottle.

"Will you be okay?" she asks in concern.

"Perfectly fine," Ben immediately answers.

"You seem frustrated," the headmistress observes.

"Well, what can I say?" he rebuttals. "I just really hate being sick." He stands to his feet, and although he still feels a little lightheaded, Ben makes an effort to strut out of the office as fast and steady as he can manage.

* * *

"Ben. Hold on."

Ben pauses, glancing from the door to the teacher, before he walks up to the professor, "Yes, Mr. Conrad?"

"I saw there was a change in your file." Ben's mouth slightly gapes open, and he can feel his heart pick up in fright. The brown eyed teacher takes something from the drawer and then holds it up for Ben to see, "I'm guessing these are yours."

Ben looks around the room, noticing everyone has left but that a couple devout students are already heading in. He turns back to the professor, glancing from the tic-tac case to him, "The teachers have access to my file?"

"Only your current ones," he informs.

Ben looks down, completely aware of just how many teachers he has, before he darts his eyes from the Tylenol to the balding man, "Yes. It's mine."

He stretches his arm out, and when Ben takes the clear container from him he comments, "You know, needing to use medicine isn't a bad thing." The teacher glances down, "I feel like that's part of why illness, especially mental illness, is so hard to talk about, is because medication is often used to treat it." He looks up at Ben, "What you're going through and the medicine you take shouldn't be things you have to feel ashamed of or, well, hide."

Ben looks at the tic-tac case, before he adjusts the stack of books in his arms to pocket the container away. He eyes the teacher, "I'm a royal. I can't just keep labeled medicine on me." before he shifts his eyes. "And it's not about the medicine. It's about how there's something so wrong with me that needs to be treated, that I'm not… healthy. Or perfect. I have an error in my DNA. Who I am is a malfunction. That's not okay. If anyone found out about this, I could be devalued and tossed away like some broken piece of machine."

It takes a minute for the teacher to respond, "You're more than your DNA. Who you are is not what you are or what you're made of. It's what you do, how you influence the people. Ben." The teacher lets him know, "What you are will be determined by the kind of impact you imprint on your people and this country."

Ben's mind turns to how he seems to have no influence over his country. _If Father has his way I won't leave an imprint of any kind on the people_. He continues to frown, "I have to attend English."

"Of course," Mr. Conrad replies, before he smiles, "Have a nice day, Ben."

"You too," Ben says, before he turns and strides out of the room.

* * *

\- I couldn't remember whether Ben told his mom about Doug or Aziz finding out about his condition. I went back and looked over the chapter in which he visits her and it didn't appear as though he did, but just in case I missed something I wrote it so that it could work either way "if they knew just how many people etc". For those of you who have binge-read this story maybe you could let me know whether he told his parents about people finding out about his condition or not?

\- **DeathCrawler** Yes, magic does go a long way, and if I have to when I get there I will use it as the cause of death. I just wanted to look into the real-world possibilities first, because I feel like people can relate more to and can be more impacted by a death caused by a nonmagic cause. Otherwise, they're not thinking of how that could be their family member and being sympathetic towards the characters and situation, but rather they'd be slightly more detached from the story... not that death isn't bad no matter how it happens. I just feel like the character doesn't deserve to die through petty means aka a magic spell or potion that causes a slow, painless death. And painless? If they were killed out of hatred, surely it would be a painful death. If not, it would almost have to be a family member or close friend... And I don't really think the person will have friends even by that point, although I could be wrong. It's a long, long ways away from now. (If you feel the need to leave any more suggestions, then just private message me. Or if you don't know how to, just comment that you would like to discuss this further. I feel like any more solutions that could be brought up would be hard to determine without knowing the specifics of who dies, when, how, where, the jists). By the way, I just looked up the word jist/gist and either the meaning of the word has evolved through the game of telephone or I'm just plain using it wrong.

 **RadioDog77** Thank you again for answering my question about hair bleaching and dying. It was helpful. I did send you a private message, though, asking about whether you meant bright as in the dyed hair would look brighter than typical or if you just meant brighter as in it wouldn't be dulled by the person's natural hair color. I don't know if you saw that question/pm or not.

 **The Storm** : So, there's good news and bad news. The bad news is that the storm caused my internet to be down all week, so these next few chapters may contain spelling and continuity errors. (Because if I'm not sure how to spell something, I look it up). It also means that some of these chapters were only half finished by the time I moved on to the next, since I couldn't research what tool you use to patch a wall or... you know. Stuff. Now, the good news is that by the time the internet came back on I had five half-written chapters, so you should be getting a lot of content this week (starting with 3 ch.s for today).


	106. Anything

**Anything**

 **(Day 69: Friday Morning)**

After Jay knocks and hears the response he opens the door and heads into the office, "I hope it's not too early. Your hours said six to five."

"No. Of course, not," Fairy Godmother smiles, before she gestures to the chair. "Have a seat." Jay eyes between the chair and her as he cautiously sits down. "How may I help you?"

"You said that we could come to you for anything," Jay begins. "When you said that, did you really mean anything or did you actually mean like for things that won't bother you?"

"Discussing problems with students is never a bother," she reassures. "What's wrong?"

It takes a minute for Jay to ask, "What do you know about masochism?"

The headmistress tenses her smile, "Masochism?" before she uncomfortably clears her throat and straightens out her desk. "Well, uh, it's a word that's tossed around a lot. People often use it to refer to self-destructive behavior." She looks at Jay, "What it really means is someone who likes pain— enjoys, uh, receiving pain, that is— but there's actually two types of masochism. One is getting pleasure out of physical pain, while the other is getting pleasure out of emotional pain such as humiliation or failure."

Jay focuses in interest, "Wait. So, it's not just pain pain. That emotional stuff— Would that be for all masochists or just some?"

"It probably depends on the person and situations," she uneasily continues. "I'm no expert on this matter by any means, but I know everyone has their limits. For instance, I doubt anyone would enjoy breaking their leg or have their deepest secret shared with the entire world." Jay nods, and it takes a moment for Fairy Godmother to inquire, "Is there a particular reason as to why you're asking about this?"

Jay shifts his eyes, "I have this friend— a real one, not one of those fake ones— who says he likes pain."

"And that bothers you?" she guesses.

"It probably wouldn't— I mean, it's not my life or body, right— except that because we're friends and we're…" He tries to explain, "We care about each other. But because of that, he said that if I really cared then I would hurt him, and I'm just having a really hard time trying to figure out if it's something he really wants or if he just thinks that pain goes along with caring because of how his mother treated him."

"This friend of yours," the headmistress questions, "is it Carlos?"

"How am I supposed to know if that's actually what he wants, if he actually is a masochist?" Jay continues on. "I mean, what if he doesn't actually like pain like that? What if I hurt him and one day he regrets it, sees me differently. I wouldn't be able to take it back."

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "It's a tough situation, but given the information you've provided, I'm not sure if there would be a way to tell if whether this thing he's going through would be something inherent in him or just some learned behavior. At least, not until the impact his mother has on him is resolved." She pauses, "One thing is for sure, and that is whether this is biological or environmental, it is something he currently wants."

"But what if he only thinks he wants it?" Jay struggles. "What if he hates me for it?"

It takes a minute for her to speak, "Look. I have no good answers for you. You probably know the situation better than I, so how you decide to proceed will ultimately be up to you." Jay looks away for a second. "I know it's hard, but all you have to do is listen to your heart. If it doesn't feel right to do this, then don't; however, if you do, I insist that you be careful and make sure to communicate. Even the most typical and small of relationships can fall apart over miscommunication, and with something as… controversial as this, it's important there isn't any."

Jay continues to frown, "So, basically, if he says he wants it, I should just believe him?"

"But don't do anything you're not comfortable with," she adds on, before she uneasily informs, "This isn't a well-studied phenomenon, but what remains consistent is that many people who claim to be masochists will say that pain can be an intimate experience when performed with another person. Some even consider it a sexual act." Jay doesn't speak. "I recommend that before you do or decide anything that you talk this issue through with him, just so you can have an idea of what it means to him and what his expectations are." He merely nods, knowing that it probably wouldn't be an issue either way. "Is there anything else you would like to say?"

Jay looks down, "There is something." before he meets her warm brown eyes. "But I'm not sure if I should say anything."

"You don't have to worry," Fairy Godmother comments. "This is a safe space. You can speak freely here." Jay eyes away again in hesitance. "And if it's a complaint about another student, your name can remain anonymous."

Jay nearly smiles, "No. It's nothing like that." but the seriousness quickly catches up to him. "It's about Mal."

"What about Mal?" she calmly questions.

"She—" He places a hand to his forehead, before he slides his red hat off, clenching it in his hand as he lowers his arm to rest. "She has a thing with alcohol. Like, she's not supposed to have it, but she relapsed before she was sent to jail, and now that she's out— We've been trying to distract her, but…" He meets her eyes, "I'm worried that she might get into it again."

"Jay," the headmistress frowns in concern, "are you saying Mal is an alcoholic?"

He hesitates, "Most people from the Isle don't even think it's a thing, but I saw it myself. For a few years it was like she was a completely different person." He looks away for a moment, "At the time I thought it was just because of the friends she had, but once she left Uma's gang it became clear what the real problem was." and then he shakes his head. "And it was just so hard for her to quit. What if she starts up and can't do it again?"

"You really care about her," Fairy Godmother notices.

Jay slightly nods, "She's the most important person in my life. I can't—" He breathes, "I don't know what I would do if I had to see her like that again. Before, it was like she couldn't care less about me. Or anyone or anything, really."

"It must have been difficult," she sympathizes.

"It was," he admits. "And now… What are we supposed to do now? I mean, I feel like we've tried everything, and she's still just so tense and angry and all of this other stuff that's been going on really hasn't been helping."

"I could speak with her if you'd like?" the headmistress suggests.

Jay shakes his head, "She can't know that I told you. Not right now." before he momentarily shuts his eyes. "I just really don't know what to do."

It takes a minute for Fairy Godmother to respond, "There are groups for people who suffer from alcoholism. Maybe you could try convincing her to attend one."

"A group?" Jay questions.

"Yes." She informs, "It would be a group of people talking about their struggles with alcohol abuse and the ways that others have overcome it, the kind of life they've earned after escaping their addiction."

"That's it?" Jay questions. "Talking?"

"It's more than that," she explains. "Most of these groups have a twelve step program to help guide them to a better way of life, and after the person has been sober for a period of time they are rewarded with a token they can keep on a keychain to remind them of the progress they've made and what it took to get there."

"What do you mean by a twelve step program?"

Fairy Godmother smiles, "Well, I don't know all of the details, but mostly it's about finding something to believe in— most of the time it's God and they will quote scripture that encourages recovery— and then after they learn to forgive themselves they move on to earning the forgiveness of their loved ones for any wrongdoings they may have done during their addiction."

"I'm pretty sure Mal doesn't believe in God," Jay comments.

"Even so," she softly responds, "a place where she can talk about her struggles and relate to others could be very beneficial. And it's anonymous, so she wouldn't have to worry about anyone else finding out about it."

Jay gives the headmistress a look, "She's dating the king. How anonymous can it be?"

It takes a moment for her to respond, "If you don't think she will attend the meetings, then the only other advice I can offer is to continue offering your love and support. It's important that she knows she has people who care about her and that she isn't alone."

After she stops speaking Jay comments, "Well, uh, thank you." before he stands.

"Hold on," Fairy Godmother informs, before she starts rummaging through the cabinet. "I'm sure I've got it here somewhere." She grins, "Ah. Here it is." before she hands the pamphlet to Jay. There's information and listed websites on here that may help you.

Jay unsurely looks from it to her, "Thanks."

She nods, "Oh, and you should know, the groups aren't just for those struggling with addiction. There are ones for friends and families of those who struggle too." He gives her a look. "Just giving out relevant information. What you do with it is up to you."

"Thanks," Jay says again, and after a moment of silence he continues, "Have a nice day."

"You too," the Fairy Godmother cheekily smiles. "I will see you in class."

"Right," Jay remembers. "Do I have to go? I mean, I know Mal has to, but—"

"Clearly, being taught how to be good wasn't entirely what you all needed." She nods, "I think it would be best if you all attended this class."

Jay nods, "Okay." before he attempts to smile. "See ya later, Mrs. G."

"If you insist on calling me that, Ms. G would be technically correct." She lets him know, "My husband and I are divorced."

Jay makes an uneasy expression, "Cool. See ya later, then, Ms. G." before he turns around and heads out of the room.

* * *

\- Any teachers in the audience by any chance? I'm curious, what would you have done if a student came to you with topics like these?... It's probably different than if it's a boarding school, but the point remains. If someone said that they were worried about a friend who was "experimenting" with masochism or had an alcohol issue (let's throw in abusive/neglectful parents while we're at it) what would the proper response be per situation? Do you agree with those guidelines? Would you follow them? Or if you would follow them despite disagreeing, then what would you have personally wanted to do instead had your hands not been tied, so to speak?


	107. They Wouldn't Understand

**They Wouldn't Understand**

 **(Day 71: Sunday Afternoon)**

Ben sighs, as he hears the loud knock, before he stands from the round table. He finishes off his soda and then hears the pounding again. He crunches the can before tossing it into the paper bag, and then he makes his way to the door and unlocks it. When he opens it he immediately notices the clenched jaw and piercing, blue eyes, "Dad." _He isn't well_. Ben takes a few steps back, "What are you doing here? This is my school. You can't just show up here."

His father steps into the room, "Who do you think is paying for your tuition?" and Ben closes his eyes as the slamming door swings shut, finding his father coming nearer when he opens them again. "What did you tell her?" Ben quickly paces backward, but eventually he feels a pain in the back of his calf as he hits it on the metal bar. "I know you said something." Ben glances behind him and sees the bed. "What did you say?"

When Ben feels the back of his collar pull him forward he looks back and sees his father's face is inches from his. He glances down at the hand bunching the front of his shirt, before he irritably comments, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," his father shouts, and Ben shuts his eyes again, turning his head to the side, as droplets of saliva make contact with his face. "I know you told that therapist something."

Ben looks back at him and whispers in slight shock, "The therapist?" He glances down at the blue carpet, "You mean the guidance counselor?"

"What did you tell her?" he shouts again.

Ben slightly shakes his head, "We talked about Mal, how she was in jail and the—"

"What else?" he insists, but as Ben's mouth opens he finds he has no words to speak. His father grits his teeth, "I know you said something about me. What did you say?"

Ben scrunches his eyebrows, "You? Nothing."

"Liar," his father accuses. "I know you told her something about me."

"No, I didn't," Ben yells back. "Why would I tell her anything? There's nothing to tell." His expression softens, and after a slight pause he softly questions, "Is there?"

His father's face shifts, before he looks down and unclenches his hand from his son's shirt and slightly shakes his head, "No. Of course, not." He straightens out the crinkles, "You know how I am about privacy." before he places a hand on Ben's shoulder. "I just really needed to know that you didn't discuss family matters with her."

"Don't worry," Ben frowns. "I didn't."

He attempts to smile, "That's my boy." before he releases the hand from his shoulder. "It's just… you know. The people… They wouldn't understand."

"I know," Ben answers, before his eyes shift. "Don't worry. I would never want to hurt you and Mom like that." His father nods before turning around, shuffling towards the door, and after he opens the door Ben comments, "You know." He eyes the floor for a second, "If tuition is an issue, I can just start paying for it myself."

His father gives him a look, "Don't be stupid. You're still young. You shouldn't have to worry about that kind of thing." Ben's mouth slightly gapes, but he doesn't speak. His father uncomfortably asks, "So, uh, will you still be joining us for dinner?"

"Of course," Ben plainly states.

He nods, "Good. That's, uh, nice to hear." before he eyes the hallway and then back at Ben. "I should go."

Ben doesn't speak, and after his father finally leaves he lets out a tiring breath and sits back down at the wooden table. He stares down at his textbook, attempting to read; however, he keeps losing focus, as he finds his eyes fixating back to the door. He shakes his head and leans back in the chair, before he pulls out his phone and begins to type. _Hardware store near me_.

* * *

Ben hears the chain tug, as the door opens, and he puts down the drywall knife before he hears him shout, "Ben?"

He turns towards the door, "Get back." and after he does Ben unchains the door.

When it fully opens Doug frowns, holding up the dorm key, "You know, this is pretty useless when there's—" He walks in and shuts the door to look at it, "What's up with the chain?"

"I just thought we should be able to see who we're letting into our room," Ben evenly states, before he goes over to lock it again. "You know. Before they come in."

"And the wall," Doug notices. "What's up with that? I thought you said you were going to get someone to do that."

"Yes. Well," Ben breathes, "that's terribly public, isn't it?" He gives him a look. "And besides." Ben turns around to continue evening out the joint compound, "If I can learn how to do things for myself, then I won't have to depend on anyone anymore."

"Because patching up a wall is something that a king who lives in a stone castle would need to learn," Doug counters.

"Stone can break too," Ben mumbles.

"What?" Doug furrows his eyebrows.

"It's an old castle," he unenthusiastically comments. "Things break. Get over it."

Doug steps closer to him, "Ben. What's going on?"

"I'm fixing the mess I made."

"Okay. Yeah," Doug accepts before glancing between Ben and the wall. "But I meant." He looks him up and down, "What's up with you?"

"Just tired," Ben expresses with widened eyes, glancing down for a second.

"Tired?"

Ben lets out an annoyed breath, before he points the wide knife out, "Of this wall." He nearly kicks it but prevents himself from doing so. "This stupid wall." He continues to even the mud out, "I'm just so sick and tired of looking at it, knowing what's behind it, and knowing no one else even knows about it."

"There's something behind the wall?" Doug questions.

"No. Not—" Ben hits the knife against to wall, and the edge makes a dent in his hard work. He sadly laughs, "I just don't understand how it can change so much." He lets out a large breath, "All the time!"

"Look. Ben," Doug begins.

He turns towards him and raises his hands, "I'm just so tired of it all. You know?"

"Ben," he uncomfortably comments, as he cautiously raises an arm. "Put the knife down." Ben eyes it for a moment. "Please."

He lowers his arms to his sides, "I have to fix it. If I don't fix it—"

"Hey. Ben." Doug takes a step forward, "It's going to be okay."

"People will find out. If they find out…" He lowers his eyes for a moment before slightly shaking his head, "It's all my fault." Doug can see the tears forming in his eyes, "It's going to be all my fault."

"Shh," Doug hushes as he places a hand on Ben's shoulder.

"He's going to kill her," Ben realizes.

Doug is put off by the genuine fear in Ben's expression, but he still manages to take the knife from his hand and drop it on the stack of paper towels. "Who?"

Ben urgently places his hands on Doug's shoulders as he widens his eyes, "The clock. The clock will know."

"The clock," Doug slowly repeats.

"The clock has witnessed. The clock will know. We must find him."

"Him?" Doug questions.

Ben grins hopefully, "Yes. The clock. He's seen it all. He will know it all."

Doug removes Ben's hands from his shoulders, "You're starting to sound like Evie, man." and then Ben frowns. He attempts to smile, "Look. Hey." Ben turns his head back up. "How about you just get a little rest, okay? We can go find that clock in the morning."

"Oh. Sleep?" Ben shakes his head, "No. No. I can't sleep. I have to meet him." He looks away for a moment, "If I don't meet him, then—"

"Ben," Doug loudly interrupts. "He's a clock. I'm sure he can wait until the morning."

"No. Not him." Ben wets his lips, "My father. I have to meet my father. We have dinner."

"Oh, right," Doug shuts his eyes and shakes his head. He sighs, "Look, Ben. I still really think you should rest a little." He lifts a hand, "It's early. You can rest for a few hours."

"I can't sleep," Ben frowns.

"Then don't," Doug compromises. "Just rest." He turns Ben around, "Here." and leads him towards the bed. "Lay down. Relax." Ben does as he's commanded, wrapping the blue sheet around himself. "Would you like anything?"

"A soda," Ben states. "I want a soda."

"Okay," Doug calmly answers, before he goes to grab one from the mini fridge and sets it down on the bedside table. He notices the flush in Ben's complexion and tests his forehead, "God. You're burning up." Doug goes to get Ben's water bottle from the table, setting it beside the now opened soda, before he opens the drawer and pulls out the pill bottle; however, after he takes three out and tries handing them to Ben he gives him a look.

"I already took those."

"So, take some more," Doug presses.

Ben sighs, "I'm never going to get off these stupid things, am I?"

He shakes his head, "Ben. What's got you so worked up?"

It takes a minute for Ben to carelessly answer, "Life." Doug gives him a look, but after another drink of the soda Ben remembers, "The clock." but then gulps in realization. "I don't know where the clock is." He turns his head up at Doug with pleading eyes, "You will help me find the clock, won't you?" Doug doesn't speak. "I need to find him. He can help us."

"Look. Ben," he begins.

"We need to find him," Ben persists. "He'll kill her if we don't."

Doug glances away for a moment, before he takes his phone from his pocket, "Just forget about the dying girl for a minute. Okay?" He forces his phone towards Ben, "Here. Take it."

"What is it?"

"It's a game." Doug explains, "You match the colors and the shapes." before he makes a motion to do one move himself. "See. Simple."

Ben looks back up at him, "Oh. No." as he shakes his head. "I can't do this. I need to help her. We need to find the clock. I need to talk to him."

"Don't worry," Doug tenses a smile, before he lifts a hand in reassurance. "I'll help you find the clock."

"Really?"

The way Ben had said it, it was like he was so desperate for him to help him but that he never believed he would. Doug nods with a frown, "Yeah. I'll help you find him."

Ben breathes, "Thank you."

"No problem." Doug gestures to the table, "I will just be there. On the laptop doing research. And I will be right there if you need me."

He partly smiles, "You're such a good friend."

Doug pauses, "Just." He makes a noise as he reaches for his phone and types in the password again. "You need to tap it for it to stay on."

"Right," Ben remembers as he's handed the game back.

"So, yeah." Doug tries to smile again, before he points back over to the table, "I will just be over there… researching. While you stay right here and take care of yourself. Okay?" Ben nods. "Okay. Good, then." He folds his hands together and slowly makes his way to the table.

* * *

\- I have no idea how it got from the beginning of the chapter to the end of it, but I think I like it. I've done a lot of writing involving mental disorders and everything, but I've never gotten the opportunity to write real "crazy" before. Between Evie and Ben it's been entertaining, although I doubt I will ever write anything quite as fun as this again... You know, I just can't stop laughing, but I suspect it's because my father has paranoid schizophrenia and I've practically had to indulge in his delusion as Doug did here with Ben... except that when I do it I act like it's real, because to him it is real and fuels his motives to the very real actions he takes... and then I just laugh it off later, probably as some coping mechanism. You know, assuming no one dies... That was supposed to be a joke, but I know it's not. It's really not. (PS: I don't currently live with my father. I live with my manic-depressive mother). Life is fun, isn't it? Yeah. I think so too. You know, and the kinds of delusions my father's had, you wouldn't believe it... and I'm not going to say it at this current time, because it is a very serious... Well, you know, it's serious. All I will say is that I should turn his delusions into a book, because you cannot just make that kind of thing up and I would probably make a fortune out of his genius mind. I know. It sounds kind of psychopathic, but if I did manage to make a fortune by turning his delusions into a book, then at least he would have finally done something for me... This is all probably a little tmi:too much information, but if you didn't care then you didn't read. So, all is well that ends well... or so they say. Have a great day! I love you all! No. Seriously. If you've made it this far, then you're absolutely, positively awesome. Oh, and please do comment on the chapter too and not just this author's note. I know my life is very entertaining and completely messed up, but I already know that. No. I want to hear you talk about how entertaining and messed up Ben's life is or else, you know, why did I write it? You know, other than giving characters similar problems to mine or people I know, timesing it by 100, and then trying to get them to solve it.

\- Don't worry. Ben's mental breakdown isn't completely permanent, obviously.


	108. Stress

**Stress**

 **(Day 71: Sunday Evening)**

Doug sighs as he sees the time on his watch, before he stands from his seat and walks over to him, "Ben." He halts and slightly widens his eyes in surprise, before he takes a few more steps and leans his head down, "Ben?" His eyes are shut, and when Doug glances down he sees the phone had turned to black. He takes a few more steps and carefully takes it from his hand, slipping it into his pocket before shaking Ben on the shoulder, "Hey." He makes a noise in his sleep, slightly changing his position and rubbing his head against the pillow. Doug shakes him again but speaks a little louder this time, "Ben. Hey. It's time to wake up."

Ben cracks his eyes open; however, it's not a moment later that they fully widen and he gasps, sitting straight up and pushing the hair from his face, "What time is it." Doug opens his mouth to say it, but before he can Ben sees the digital watch around his wrist. Ben lets out a slight breath of relief, "Good. There's still time." before he notices the unfinished can of soda and gulps down the rest of it.

"You just woke up," Doug complains. "You're really drinking that?"

"I was just finishing it," Ben furrows his brows in comment, before he stands from the bed and goes over to the fridge.

He watches him pull another soda out, "And now you're having another one."

"The other one was little stale." Ben reasons, "I need something to wash it down with."

"And you couldn't have that flavored water of yours?" Ben opts to take another drink instead of commenting, and Doug slightly shakes his head, "You shouldn't be having that."

Ben lifts up a finger, "Don't test me." before he lowers his arm and takes another drink. "I have a dinner with my father, and—" He glances at his watch, "I only have ten minutes to get ready." He finishes off the soda, tosses the crunched can in with the others, and then heads to the dresser to rummage through the clothes.

Doug watches him for a minute, "How are you feeling?"

"What do you mean, how I'm feeling?" Ben irritably questions.

"You weren't feeling well earlier," he informs. "Okay? You had a high fever, you weren't making any sense at all…" He shakes his head at the absurdity, "And you kept talking about how there was this clock that was going to help you save some girl."

"Huh," Ben comments. "That's a weird thing for me to say." He piles the clothes into his arms, "Doesn't even make any sense."

"Great. So, you're better, then?" Doug cautiously questions, but as Ben enters the bathroom and shuts the door there's no response. "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

"How am I supposed to tell you? I don't even remember it."

"Okay," Doug accepts. "But it's your mind." He takes a moment to think, "Maybe you were worried about something, like some girl getting hurt… is there any girl that you're afraid could die somehow?"

Ben opens the bathroom door, "Look. I'm not in the business of recuing damsels." before he turns and puts toothpaste on his toothbrush. "It's the twenty-first century. They can do that themselves."

Doug is quiet as he watches Ben bring it to his mouth, "You just drank a soda. The acid will make it so it's like you're practically brushing your enamel off."

Ben spits it out, "Haven't had any issues yet." before he cleans the brush under the running water. "And anyway, if there was a girl who needed saving…" He turns to Doug, "Don't you think I would have mentioned it when I wasn't completely out of my mind?"

"It happened for a reason," Doug frowns.

"Yeah." Ben steps past him, "It happened because my fever caused me to become delusional." He takes the tic-tac case from his pocket to check the amount left, "Never actually happened to me before, surprisingly considering how much brain damage a high fever can do, but there's a first time for everything."

He watches him re-pocket the case, "Okay, yes. But there still has to be a reason why that was specifically what you came up with." Ben gives him a look. "Just think about it for a minute. You said that he was going to kill her, whoever he and she were, and you really wanted me to help you find the clock. You said that he could help you… well, help her."

"He?" Ben leans forward in question. "The clock was a he?"

Doug lets out a loud breath, "That's what you said."

Ben smiles and then slightly nods, before he lifts up a hand, "Now, that makes sense."

"It does?"

"Yeah." Ben looks around the room, "I think I know who he is." before he goes back over to his bedside table and moves some of the items into his pocket.

"So, who is he?" Doug prompts.

Ben turns around and questions, "Where's my phone?" before he sees the textbook on the table and walks over to it.

After Doug sees Ben open the book and take his phone out from it, Ben faces him again and Doug questions, "Who's the guy, Ben?"

"Oh," Ben half laughs. "He's the clock."

"The clock," Doug repeats.

"Yeah. My father used to have a clock that worked for him back when he was the beast." He turns back to the table, placing a notebook inside of the textbook and then shutting it again. "His name was Clocksworth."

"Clocksworth?" Doug slowly responds.

Ben looks back at him, shifting his eyes for a moment, "That doesn't sound right, does it?" before he hums. "Keep in mind, I was about," he lifts a shoulder, "six when I was told all of that." He looks off again, "Or most of it anyway." He eyes the room again, "It's completely possible that I just heard his name as Clocksworth, because he was a clock at the time. I should probably ask my parents." He smiles again and lifts up a hand, "But I won't." before he moves away from Doug.

"Why not?"

"Because," Ben states matter-of-factly, "questions are bad."

"Okay." Doug rushes over and stands in front of the mini fridge, "You know what's bad for you? That soda." He glares at him, "Tell me that you're getting yourself one of your waters."

Ben stares at him a moment, frowning, before he says, "I'm stressed. I want a soda."

"You already had two," Doug sternly addresses. "You don't need another." Ben glowers at him. "Just tell me, do you still need me to help you find this clock or Clocksworth or whoever the guy is?"

"Why would I need you to do that?"

"So that girl doesn't get killed," Doug loudly reminds him.

"What girl?" Ben exasperates.

Before Ben can continue Doug counters, "I don't know. What girl could your father's former employee possibly help you to save?"

Ben's expression softens, before he shakes his head, "I don't have time for this." and makes his way to the door; however, as he stands in front of it he can feel the silence weigh on him. "I know what you're thinking." He turns around and waits for Doug to admit to it.

He steps forward, "She never leaves the castle, Ben. Why do you think that is?" and he takes advantage of Ben's quietness. "Admit it. She's afraid to leave. She's afraid of him."

"No, she isn't," Ben nearly shouts. "She's afraid of the rumors and conspiracies she's confronted with every single time she leaves the safety and comfort of home." Doug silences, and Ben can feel his face warm as tears intrude his eyes. "My parents love each other." He takes a step towards him, "My father would never hurt her. You don't hurt the people you love."

"Ben," Doug softly speaks, before he eyes the ground for a second. "Look. I—" He makes a noise and takes a small step forward, "I didn't mean to imply that they didn't or that he would. It's just…" He sees the hurt in Ben's expression, "There must be a reason why you were so desperate to find the clock to save that girl from being killed." He pauses, "Is it possible that you're afraid that your mother could get hurt, even if you know it could never happen?"

Ben wets his lips, "I think that delusions are thoughts or beliefs that aren't real and that they are a known uncommon symptom of a high fever, and so it was bound to happen to me eventually." He looks at him for a moment, "It wasn't real. If I were anyone else— had I said anything else— you would have believed that." He sees Doug about to speak, "You can't tell me that you didn't write me off as crazy and blame the fever too, or else you would have called someone, they would have been here, and I wouldn't even be attending dinner right now."

Doug's quiet for a second, "I'm not the one who was able to figure out that the clock was a real person." There's a knock at the door and Ben stares towards it for a minute, before Doug calmly comments, "You should get it."

Ben glances towards Doug and then back towards the door, before he goes over to crack it open and his mouth slightly gapes, "Mal." He quickly shuts it to undo the chain and then fully opens it. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Sunday," she frowns in response.

"Right," Ben sighs and shuts eyes, before he gestures from her to the dorm. "Why don't you come in?" He sees that look in her eyes, the one of guilt and fear and just general uneasiness.

She glances at Doug before staring up at Ben, "What's going on?"

"Look." Ben lifts an arm and then closes his hand, "I'm not entirely sure if you should come to dinner tonight."

Mal uncomfortably laughs through her pained grin, "Okay. I know I was really horrible to you the other night, but I don't hate you. Ben, you need to know that."

"I know," he frowns in response.

"Because," Mal quickly interjects, but it's hard for her to continue. "I don't hate you. I really like you, and what happened." She breathes, "I'm so sorry."

"Mal. It's okay." He places one hand on her arm and wipes her newly fallen tears with the other, "This has nothing to do with that."

"Then, why?" she intensely questions.

Ben lets go of her, eyeing the dark carpet for a mere second, "It's just—" and then he folds his hands together. "My father wasn't feeling very well earlier." He wets his lips, "I just don't want to cause him any more stress."

"And I'm stressful," Mal insecurely responds.

"Not you specifically." Ben sighs again, "He just doesn't really like that we're together, and with the trial and everything…" Mal shakes her head as she scratches her forehead with her light blue nails. "I'm just concerned with the impact it may have on him."

She looks away from him "I understand."

"No." Ben lifts her chin back up and looks into her eyes, "This has nothing to do with you. It's not your fault."

"How can I believe that?" she tenses. "After all of the horrible things I've done and then to you, and we haven't spoken all week, and now—" She shakes her head.

"Mal," Ben begins.

"It's got to be my fault," she insists. "I mean, what else…"

He watches her shake her head again, and then he places his hands on her shoulders, "Look. If it's this important to you, then you can come to dinner with me."

"Really?" Mal disbelieves.

"Yeah." Ben tries to reason, "Father should be feeling better by now anyway, and Mom will probably just ask where you are." He lets his hands fall and then squeezes them together, "It's completely possible that they may ask you some questions."

"I want to go," Mal insists.

Ben nods, "Okay, then." before he hesitates. "But let's try to make it a nice, quiet dinner, okay?" and then he makes a noise. "If my father still isn't well—" He looks pointedly at her, "I don't want to be confrontational or to, uh." He looks away for a second, "Or to stress him out."

It takes a moment for Mal to respond, "You think I'm confrontational."

"Not so much confrontational as just… outspoken." When their eyes meet he continues, "There's nothing wrong with it. It's just that my dad— He gets stressed easily, and it really isn't any good for him."

Mal slightly nods, "Yeah. Okay."

Ben attempts to smile, "Thank you." but before she speaks he points to the door. "We should go or we'll be late."

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" Mal questions.

"Huh?" Ben looks at her.

"You're thinking." She frowns, "It's not about me, is it?"

He tries to smile, "No. It's not you. It's—" Ben glances over the car's interior, "My father was getting stressed about the tuition before, and I just get the feeling that whether I pay for it or not it would still upset him." He thinks aloud, "Probably more so if I did pay, since he told me not to worry about it after he complained."

"The tuition?" Mal questions. "What's tuition?"

Ben almost laughs, "It's money that goes towards an individual's education. Auradon Prep is a private school, so there is some tuition." He notices her nervous expression, "But you don't need to worry about it. Technically speaking, you're all here on scholarship."

"Scholarship meaning that it's free?" she inquires.

"Correct."

She shifts her eyes, "What about Doug? He doesn't look that rich either."

"Because, he's not," Ben glances down. "Doug's on a scholarship too."

"For what?"

He shifts uncomfortably on the leather seat, turning more towards her, "Doug's the son of Dopy, as you probably already know."

"One of the seven dwarves," Mal remembers.

"Yes, well, the dwarves," Ben uneasily comments. "They were once part of a tribe that roamed the Black Forest, but with settlers and explorers and all that… You know."

"Know?"

Ben speedily answers, "Well, you know, genocide and all that." before he makes a noise and turns away from her shocked expression. "After my parents united that kingdoms Snow White informed them about the remaining family of the tribe, and it was decided that a piece of land would be put aside for them so that they could feel safe." It takes him a moment to continue, "In return, my father insisted they… that they pay for the land by mining for the country. And, um, they get a scholarship to better their education and all that."

Mal sees Ben gulp, "You don't seem very comfortable with your father's decision."

"Because, I'm not," he frowns. "That land was theirs to begin with, and now we expect them to mine for it like— like slaves?" He shakes his head, "We should at least be paying them better, but Father—" He looks back at Mal, "He thinks that we've already done more than help their community."

"How could he think that?" Mal questions.

"Because," Ben answers, "if it weren't for him, then they would still be hiding out in the woods waiting for another attack rather than living in a legally protected area that consists of more land than they could have ever dreamed of." He glances down, "Or so he says." The door opens and Ben gets out, "Thank you, Travis." before he offers his hand to Mal, she takes it, and they walk up the stone path to the front door.

* * *

"So, Mal," Belle smiles, "how has life been treating you now that you're free?"

Mal looks down at the white plate, "It's been…" She glances at Ben before attempting to smile at his mother, "I'm just glad to be free."

"And you've been…" Adam makes a circular motion with his hand, "You know, complying with the court's demands?"

"Uh, yes," Mal looks down for a second, before she nods with reassurance, "I've been attending the classes, and I have a therapy session tomorrow."

"What about those temperature logs?" Belle worries. "Have you kept up on those?"

"Yeah, actually." Mal eyes the table, "Evie reminded me about it the day I got out." before she attempts to smile at her again. "Better to be careful than sorry, right?"

"Very much so," Belle smiles in agreement.

"So," Ben interrupts, "is it okay to dish up or are we still waiting?"

"No. It's fine," she answers, and when Ben starts to place some of the pasta onto his plate his mother continues, "You were a little late, you know."

Ben stops to look at her, "Yeah. I know." and he makes a noise before glancing down for a second. "I didn't feel very well earlier." He frowns, "I slept it off, and the time escaped me."

"You're not getting sick again?" his mother fears.

"No. I don't think so." Ben slightly smiles, "It's probably just…" He was going to say stressful, but as he eyes his father he knows that would only further prove how he clearly can't handle the strife of being king. He shifts his eyes back to his mother, "You know, the usual."

She lets out a breath of relief, "Thank goodness. You had me worried there."

"Worried?" Mal questions, but when Ben turns to her she sighs and slowly comments, "Not that it's any of my business."

Ben looks between his parents, noticing his mother's unsureness and his father's caution, before he turns back to Mal, "She just means that I wouldn't be able to do my job if I got sick."

"Oh," Mal uneasily laughs. "Of course." They continue to look at her, so she hurriedly goes to dish up the pasta, "This looks so good. What is it?"

"That is beef ragu," Belle informs. "It's basically just noodles, a beef sauce, carrots and celery, and garlic— of course."

"Mrs. Potts is so good at making it," Adam compliments.

"Yes," Belle agrees, before she puts some onto her own plate. "It must be the wine. She doesn't use those salted ones most people do."

Ben sees Mal with a spoon halfway towards her mouth and stops her, placing his hand over her wrist, before he turns back to his mother in shock, "It has wine in it?"

"Many traditional dishes do," she informs.

He lets go of Mal and furrows his brows, "I've been eating this since I was a kid."

His mother smiles, "Honey, most of it evaporates by the end of the cooking process. There's no way it would have affected the development process of you or any child."

"It's not about the development process," Ben's voice raises.

"Then what?" his mother patiently inquires.

Ben makes a noise, letting out a breath before finally saying, "You should have told me."

"Should have told you?" his mother questions. "Why? It's not of any importance." He shakes his head and then goes to scrape his serving back into the commune bowl. She almost laughs, "What are you doing?"

"I just think it's ridiculous to have wine in food," Ben blatantly answers, before he takes Mal's plate and scrapes the pasta off of it as well.

"Ben." His mother tries to reason. "Don't you think this is just a little too childish for you?" before she gestures to Mal. "Let the poor girl eat."

"She can have the beef roast," he immediately responds, and then he nods once in thought. "Dragons are carnivores, aren't they?" He turns towards Mal, "It would probably be better for you anyway."

It takes a moment for Mal the say, "I guess." before she looks at Belle.

Adam firmly comments, "Mrs. Potts made us this dinner. I expect you to respect her great cooking and eat it."

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "I am eating it." He goes to take a few cuts of the roast and then bites into a slice, "See. I'm eating it."

His father sits up straighter and points a finger down at the table, "This is my castle, and when you're here you will do as I say." Ben's mother turns towards his father, but although it looks like she may say something, she says nothing. "Now. I suggest you drop this attitude, get yourself under control, and eat what's been served."

Ben widens his eyes, "Get myself under control."

"Yes."

"You're telling me to get myself under control?" Ben exasperates. "After you just showed up at my school the way you did?"

Mal watches as Belle turns to her husband and asks something in French, before Adam slowly makes an incomprehensible statement and Belle gives him a look of disbelief. She seems to ask something, Adam unwilling to answer, before she turns to Ben and asks the same thing. Mal watches Ben make a noise, before he wets his lips. He's making an excuse, or something is wrong. It's something, but as the conversation paces faster she realizes she has absolutely no idea what could really be going on. Belle and Adam argue back-and-forth, before he quiets, rests for a moment, and then stands from his seat. He looks at Mal for a moment, as though he thinks he should say something, but he quickly decides against it and turns to stride out of the room. Mal watches Ben glance over his shoulder as his father leaves, before he turns back to his mother and comments, "You shouldn't have done that."

"Honey," she begins.

"He's going to blame me," Ben interrupts. "He's going to think this is my fault."

She lets out a small breath, "Ben. He can't blame this on you." before she reaches for his hand. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Ben pulls away, "I told you about something that he thought we had solved ourselves."

"It's not your fault he left the castle when he was unwell," his mother counters.

"It doesn't matter." Ben glances down for moment, "He will find a way to blame me." before he looks into her eyes. "He always does. It's all my fault. Everything. All the time."

She shakes her head and briefly shuts her eyes, "That's not true."

Ben's quiet for a second, "No. Of course, it isn't."

Mal watches them stare at each other for another minute, before she asks, "What was all of that?" Ben looks at her. "I don't speak French," she slowly says.

"Right." It takes a moment for him to answer, glancing down as he does so, "It's nothing, really. My father just… I told you how stress affects him." She observes him intently. "Well, uh, he isn't supposed to leave the castle when he doesn't feel well." Ben pauses, "And he came to, uh, check on me earlier, and he wasn't well. I just told my mother that he broke that rule, and because he didn't feel well earlier she suggested that he shouldn't be eating with us now."

"And because you told your mother," Mal slowly questions, "that's why your father would blame you?" She gives an unsure look, "Is because you told?"

"He's just stubborn," Ben excuses. "He's always just trying to do the best he can, you know… so when something goes wrong he has a hard time blaming himself." Mal doesn't speak, so he eyes over the table, "Where's the catchup?"

"The catchup?" his mother asks.

"For the roast," Ben softly responds. "It's always drier than I would like."

"Of course," she remembers. "I'll go get it for you."

"Thank you."

After Belle exits to the kitchen Mal comments, "You know, don't you?" He looks at her again. "You know about the… the…"

"I think so," Ben answers. He sees her eyes glisten as she nervously smiles. "Hey." He takes her hand, "It's okay."

"I am so much more trouble than I'm worth," she sadly laughs.

His frown deepens, "We all have baggage, Mal." He quiets for a moment, "Some worse than others?"

"What do you mean?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but just as he finds the courage to say the first syllable his mother comes back in and sets the catchup next to him, "Here you go."

It takes Ben a second to say, "Thank you." before he shakes the bottle and squeezes some onto his plate.

"I just remembered," his mother sits in her seat. "Audrey has invited us to dinner for Saturday night."

"What?" Ben questions.

"All of us," she informs. "Something about past transgressions and forgiveness and all that." She takes a bite of the pasta, "Mal. Your attendance is required, obviously."

Ben hesitates, "Is Father coming?"

His mother smiles, "Everyone is coming."

"Of course," he frowns before mumbling, "I should have known."

Mal asks, "Is there a dress requirement?"

"I don't think a dress will be required," Belle informs.

Ben nearly smiles, "Mother. I don't think she meant literally."

"Oh," she laughs off her mistake. "Silly me. Ah, yes. Try a casual formal look."

He sees Mal's confusion, "She means to dress in something that is casual but that looks nice enough where you wouldn't wear it for just anything." before he raises an eyebrow and lifts a hand. "One of those outfits you wear on our dates, for instance."

Mal shifts her eyes, "Just drop the leather."

Ben frowns, and it takes a minute for him to comment, "I don't care if you wear the leather or not. With everything Audrey put you though…" He slightly shakes his head, "You don't need her approval, okay? Just be who you are."

Mal looks away for a second, "Who I am got me in jail."

"Mal," he begins to excuse.

"You can say it wasn't me," Mal interrupts, "but doesn't it scare you? Doesn't it scare you to know how far I can go if I'm desperate enough to do it?"

Ben slightly shakes his head and softly comments, "No. It doesn't."

"It's scares me," Mal admits, and she eyes the empty plate before continuing, "I mean, what's stopping me? What's stopping me from becoming just like her? Like my mom?"

"Me," Ben answers. "You have me." He sees her disbelief, "You have me, and Evie, and all of the people you care about and who care about you."

She looks at him, "You could never stop me. You know that." and she pauses to gauge his expression. "If I wanted to destroy the kingdom, pit the citizens against each other, and eat those who rise up against me, I could. I could, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

"No. I couldn't," Ben accepts, "but only because I love you. I love you, and I would never want to hurt you." He sees the tears intrude her eyes as her breathing becomes unsteady, "You don't scare me, Mal. We've gone over all of this before." He pauses, lifting her chin to look into her eyes. "You hear me? You don't scare me. I'm not going anywhere."

She gulps, "Maybe you should be." and a couple tears fall. "Your father's right. You shouldn't date me. I could destroy everything for you."

It takes a minute for him to say, "There's nothing to destroy." before he moves the stray hair from her face. "You're the most important thing in my life. There's nothing else."

"You can't say that," Mal loudly denies. "You have a kingdom. You're the king."

Ben makes a noise before commenting, "I may be king, I may have a loving family, and I may have devoted friends… but I don't really think my life had true meaning until I met you." She doesn't speak, and he slightly shakes his head, "I don't want to make you feel trapped or… obligated." He offers a sad look, "But I do need you in my life, because without you my life is just, well, my life. It's tiring and hard, and you are my shining light." He takes her hand, "And I know you would never betray me. I can feel in my heart how good you are— how right we're meant to be— so you can't turn out like your mother. I know you won't, and I promise you that."

After a moment Mal merely states, "I hope you're right."

* * *

\- This was the first of the last two chapters that I wrote while the internet was out. I feel like there's continuity errors as the conversations switch from one to the next, but then again I kind of like that I had to write Mal's part first. I feel like I would have made her more relaxed had I not written her part first, even though her apology to Ben was initially the purpose of the chapter. However, it's kind of realistic to have Ben going through all of his garbage and then having someone else deal with their issues at the same time.

\- **RadioDog77** Don't feel bad about not answering sooner, although your explanation was appreciated. Thank you for clarifying your answer. Details like Evie's bleached hair and the dying may not matter at this moment, since it's already been well established, but I'm thinking about translating this fanfiction into a novel. I would want to be a lot more accurate there... It's kind of an issue, because I would have to avoid copyright; however, I've already started translating the characters' names (and families) and made a few maps. The maps themselves are of after the water levels rise and the continents shifted closer together, just because it's easier to deal with less land and to have that land together (which means it's probably not the 21st century and I couldn't use that "joke" there)... should I tell you. Yeah. I want to tell you. Once I'm far enough into the fanfics to translate the chapters over, I've decided that in the novel Mal (Lor, as in Mallory) and Audrey (Harmony) would be half-sisters, and their father would actually tell Harmony not to report Mal's... attempted kiss, because she's her sister and all of the reasons that stem from that. Also, I have an idea where the prequel (or first book, depending on how I spin things) would be from the point of view of a character inspired my Lonnie. Her father would have died in the army, and her and her mother who are spies would be sent to the prison island (Purgatory) shortly after to gather information. I'm thinking three years? Because, Mal's life in this fanfiction is divided into the three years in Uma's gang and the three years after she had left it, so in the novel Lonnie's inspired character would be there around right after Mal left the gang... I have way too many ideas for my own good, don't I? I'm kind of thinking a mix of Christian and Greek theology for symbols and analogies throughout it, but I'm not sure. I would probably have to research them more first and the Bible is just so hard to get through. What was it, the second book, where all they did was give the dimensions of three objects? And then that other book that had nothing but numbers... maybe I should just do what my mother told me to do in the first place and start at the new testament, but I have a thing about going in order (which is probably why I would be writing the prequel first)... Mallory too close to Mal, even if her nickname Lor is usually always used? Or what it not be changed enough to be considered copyright safe? These are the questions I struggle with! Lol.

\- **Last Chapter** : So, because of my rant in the author's section of the last chapter I forgot to mention something I really wanted to mention for some reason (no idea why). So, the part where Ben hit his calf on the metal bar of the bed was actually inspired from back when I had hit the front of my leg on a wooden coffee table. It made a dent actually, and to this day I can still feel it. It's weird... Also, not something I would mention had I not done that rant, but the part where Ben says there's nothing to tell is also inspired by something that happened to me. One morning when I was about to walk to school my dad was sitting at the kitchen table, and he just started pleading in desperateness that I wouldn't tell anyone, that he was my father and I wouldn't do that to him... I had absolutely no idea what he was referring to, and it was only after that I started to question if there was something to tell. Sure, he did things he wasn't supposed to do, but I never thought any of it was serious enough to tell anyone about (like "smoking" in the apartment, for instance)... Thinking about it now, I probably could have reported him for neglectfulness and such; however, I'm actually thinking that it would have been tied to one of his delusions... and if that's true, I really don't want to find it was.

\- **Words** : Okay. This will be my last point for this chapter... as you may very well already know. So, **1** ) I hope you didn't find the way I spelled catchup irritating. Apparently, it's a very outdated way of spelling it and that it was never even common back when it was used... I would think that dialect would be why I then started spelling it that way, but when I was putting groceries away today my mother said the word differently so I have absolutely no idea now. **2** ) The thing is I grew up speaking English; however, I spent a couple years in middle school with my full German grandma, and when I took German class in high school I figured out that a specific word we had used often was actually a more or less direct translation from German. Nightstand. That is what we call a bedside table (it's nice and short, and I like it), and every single time I go to type the word I always want to say nightstand instead (meaning night table from the German nachttish). Apparently nightstand counts as English, so I could get away with writing it; however, I always felt like it wouldn't fit the area where the characters live. Also why I say soda instead of pop... I feel like there was a time when I didn't use "halt" either, because it's either of German or Russian origin (don't remember which) and it's just a very strong word. I feel like there was a time when I felt it messed with the atmosphere of a scene (for this fanfic anyway) and didn't keep you (a person) immersed in the reading experience, but I know for certain now that I've forgotten about that on and off and so have used it in here. **3** ) Just to make three. I wouldn't mention this, because it's really not important and I can probably just look it up if and when it does, but when I was making a list of what the island prison might have for education, I put down kindergarten. And now I'm ultra paranoid, because this is saying it's English. I really don't know, though. I feel like there should be a "d" in there somewhere, probably eliminating the "rt". That's how it works, doesn't it? German words with "rt" tend to translate to "d" in English? I really don't know. This is what happens when you mix up your English and German, people. You know, it's the words that are English that mess me up most with foreign languages. Once, back in German class, we had to do a skit, and the one word I forgot was the one that was the same in English. *Sighs* Why couldn't German have been chosen for America's language? That would have been so much easier. *Thinks for a moment* Nope. I wouldn't have wanted to learn English either. Never mind.

\- Thank you everyone for reading. Next chapter-


	109. Need

**Need**

 **(Day: 72-73: Monday Noon-Tuesday Afternoon)**

As Ben holds Mal's hand, he twists it to see the long scar running down her wrist, "I still can't believe you did that."

"It was that or die," she nonchalantly comments, as she lets go of his hand and takes a bite out of her ham sandwich.

"It's not going to heal," he frowns.

Mal halts, her mouth wide, before she twists her head in thought. Evie questions, "Mal. You can't honestly think—"

"I know," she evenly interrupts. "It is possible."

Doug looks between the two of them, "Am I missing something?"

Evie gives Mal a look, "M thinks that she should use a potion from the spellbook."

"You've never used it before," Jay disapproves.

"You have to start somewhere," Carlos interjects, but then Jay gives him a look. "What? Scientifically speaking—"

"Look," Mal loudly interrupts, and then everyone falls silent. "I don't even know what the ingredients are. Most of those potions are hundreds of years old. I would have to look at it first to even know if it could still be made the same way."

"So, you won't do it, then?" Ben tries to reason.

"No. Of course, I am," Mal smiles, before she stands from her seat. "And I think I will start by looking it up right now."

After she begins to walk off Ben tiredly comments, "I'm going after her." before he stands from the table as well.

When Ben makes it to the edge of the cafeteria Evie frowns suspiciously, turning to look at Doug, "Does he ever eat lunch?"

Doug glances from his tray to her, mouth open; however it takes him a moment to respond, "Well, I've seen him eat before. I mean, he always fills his tray and starts to…" He looks away for a second, before he uneasily faces her again, "I think he just gets busy a lot."

"Hmm," Evie hums as she picks up the apple wedge. "How convenient."

* * *

"So, what does it say," Ben questions as he observes Mal reading the leather-bound book.

She gives him a look, "You know, you don't need to be here."

"I want to be here," he quietly insists, before he walks closer to her and they sit on the bed. He sees the long list of items, "Are those the ingredients?"

"All of the plants are listed with their Latin names," Mal irritably comments.

"Is Evie's magic mirror around?" Ben inquires, before Mal gives him a look. "You could ask it to show you the English names."

"Only a witch can use a witch's glass," Mal informs as she places a hand to her head. "We'll have to use a computer to look it up." She stands up and walks around Evie's side of the room, "There should be one here somewhere."

"Magic mirrors can be used by anyone."

Mal turns around and sees his confused expression, "It's not a magic mirror. It's a witch's glass. Only a witch can use it." before she finds the laptop and takes it over to him.

"Then why does she call it a magic mirror?" Ben frowns.

"Probably because no one knows what a witch's glass is," Mal easily answers before she gets to the search engine.

After another minute Ben questions, "What is a witch's glass?"

"God," Mal complains. "Okay. Fine." She starts to type, "We will satisfy your unmoving curiosity first." Ben glances towards the door, as feet move along the hallway, before he turns back to the screen. "Here. Some people have their own guesses." Mal begins to read, "One. It's a mirror enchanted to see what you want." She shakes her head, huffing a laugh, "They actually have your father's magic mirror listed as the reference."

"But it's not?"

"Definitely not," Mal frowns as she scrolls through the responses. "And many of these people insists there's a difference, even though they don't know what it is." She pauses, before her jaw drops, "Wow."

"What?" Ben questions.

"This person really went into it. Like, a lot." There's another pause, "They even list what the differences are between an enchanted mirror, a magic mirror, and a witch's glass."

Ben scrunches his eyebrows, "There's a difference between a magic mirror and an enchanted mirror?"

"Apparently," Mal widens her eyes before reading the long paragraph. "A witch's glass is a mirror that has a spirit trapped inside it. Spirits who can't move on often cling to shiny or reflective objects. Blah. Blah. Blah." She looks towards the bottom of the paragraph, "Because most witches have the ability to communicate with spirits in one form or another, they are the only people who can use a witch's glass. Which, apparently, gives it its name."

"So, Evie's mirror has a spirit inside it?" Ben slowly questions.

"Apparently."

"And she can communicate with it?" he concludes.

"Apparently," Mal says again, before she switches the tab. "Can you get me a notebook or something? I need to write the ingredients in English."

"Of course," Ben answers, but as he stands and sees the scattered blankets, clothes, and other things, he finds it hard to find anything else. "Where, exactly?"

"Try my bag."

Ben notices the dark purple bag, before he goes up to it and rummages through it for a notebook, "Um. I'm not sure you have one in here."

"Get the drawing pad and pencil box, then." Ben sees the items, takes them out, and then zips the bag up before walking back over to hand the materials to her.

"This is great, isn't it?" Evie grins. "I mean, if this works, then you could get rid of all of your scars." She gasps, "I could get rid of my scars. They've just been so annoying lately, you don't even know."

"Don't worry," Mal frowns as she applies the cream to her wrists. "I'll let you know if it works at all."

Evie frowns, "What? You don't think it will?" Mal doesn't speak. "Your mother had four stars next to it."

"It probably wasn't even my mother," Mal comments, "but that's besides the point."

"Then why are you so down?" Evie insists. "If this works, then all of your scars are gone— literally. You won't have to be reminded of everything that's happened. You won't have to see what you—" Her expression falters, "Ah, you know, what's happened."

Mal looks at her, "That's the thing: in order to heal all of my cuts, they can't be fresh."

"Why does that matter?" she frowns.

"Because," Mal answers, "apparently it burns a lot and can actually interfere with the healing process when applied directly into the wound."

"No." Evie explains, "I mean, why does it matter? It shouldn't matter if they're fresh, unless…" She sees Mal look away, and it's quiet for a moment. "You're still doing it." Evie eyes the ground, "I thought…" before her and Mal face each other again. "I would have thought that you'd have stopped after all that time you spent in… custody."

"Alone in jail with nothing but my thoughts and memories," Mal sadly exasperates. "Of course I was still doing it."

"But you didn't even have nails," Evie disbelieves.

"Yes, well," Mal glances down, "apparently I'm just that creative." Evie stares at her, so she explains, "I still had my toenails." She eyes the ground and raises her eyebrows, "They didn't think of that." before she meets Evie's eyes again. "I tore one off and used it… It was actually decently sharp, you know, for a toenail." She doesn't respond, and Mal looks away again. "I actually thought that with the thickness of it and all that, that it wouldn't be sharp at all… but it was. And I used it."

"You were that desperate to cut yourself," Evie tears up.

"I was that desperate to get rid of the thoughts," Mal corrects, and when Evie doesn't speak she takes a step forward and lifts her arm, gesturing a hand to the side of her head. "Everything that I've ever heard or seen just repeats over and over again." She hysterically laughs with a pained grin, "And it doesn't matter if it only happened once or how small it was." She grits her teeth, "I remember it all."

Evie takes a step forward, "Mal."

She shakily breathes, "I remember when I was really little and Mom was gone, and I was running around the castle looking for her. And I stepped on a nail." She gulps, "Later on I was told that she had been at Jaffar's and that I shouldn't have been so afraid of being alone." Mal laughs, "Because, it's my fault, right? That I didn't sleep through the night? When I didn't steal the meat from the butcher and she nearly had me kill him for it?" She takes a step forward, "And how you were gone. How you were always just gone and I could never find you, and I couldn't even hypnotize your mother to let me see you because I was just that weak?" A few tears fall to her cheek, "You suffered because of me. I know you did."

Evie takes a few more steps forward, shaking her head, "No, Mal."

Mal glows her eyes at her, "Don't lie to me!" but Evie continues forward.

"M." She glances down for a second, "Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was," Mal insists. "It was all my fault— everything."

"No. It wasn't," Evie quietly comments, before she takes a final step forward and wraps her arms around Mal. "It wasn't your fault." She sobs. "Okay. You didn't even know what was going on. I never told you anything."

"But I never even bothered to ask," Mal whispers.

"Because we're told not to," Evie immediately responds. "Okay. We're told it's our fault, that we should be ashamed, and that we should never mention it again." She holds Mal tighter, "Okay? But that doesn't make it true. What your mother did… it wasn't your fault. And what my mother's done to me…" She lightly laughs, "That's not your fault either. Okay? You tried your best. You did all you could. That's what matters."

Mal's breathing steadies, "You still smell like strawberries."

Evie giggles, "Yeah, well, I still have that body wash, so—" before she feels Mal kiss her neck and place her hand under the shirt onto her lower back. "What are you doing?"

She undoes the zipper at the leather top of Evie's shirt, "It's been so long since I've had you like this."

Evie partially lifts up her arms, shutting her eyes, "Mal." and she rolls them in irritation as Mal takes the opportunity to lift the shirt off of her. "We should be talking."

"Why?" Mal smiles. "Talking is so boring." She takes a few steps back as she pulls off her green, flowing tank top to reveal the black, flowery lace underneath. "Don't you want me?"

Evie tears her eyes away from the bra, "We were talking. You were upset, and we were talking." but then Mal closes in on her again. "I wanted to help you."

"Then help me," Mal seductively whispers, and Evie can feel the warm breath caress her skin as she takes a few steps back and finds herself falling back onto the bed. Mal moves on top of her, her legs spread apart over hers, as Evie uses her arms to prompt herself up. Mal kisses her slowly, and when their lips part Mal's remains only an inch away, "Now. Wouldn't you much rather be doing this?"

Evie can feel Mal's lips just barely pass hers with each word, "I, uh." She lets out a breath, "I guess we can talk later."

Mal kisses her again, "There's my princess." before she makes her way to Evie's neck and Evie rests her arms, letting herself fall onto the soft mound of shambled bedding.

* * *

When Ben opens the door Evie smiles in frustration, "Hey. So, you remember back in court when you and Mal were talking about that whole age thing, and she made you completely forget about your concerns, and I acted like only a guy could be so dumbfounded?"

Ben shifts his eyes, "I may."

Evie walks in between the space of him and the doorframe, before she twists around and uncomfortably rubs her arm, "Yeah, well, I'd just like to apologize for that."

Ben shuts the door, "What happened?"

"Well, I—" Evie halts at the sight of the plastered hole, "Nice wall."

Ben glances over his shoulder and recognizes the mismatched brightness of the paint, before he sighs and turns back to Evie, "I'm working on it."

"Okay." She continues on, "Well, anyway, Mal and I were going over something, ah, important." Evie shakes her head, "She got all upset, and I was trying to help her, and…"

"And?" Ben prompts.

"And." Evie uneasily laughs, "She really didn't want to talk." Ben gives her a tired, annoyed look. "She seduced me."

"Right." He takes a deep breath, "I think I need a drink." before he goes and takes a couple sodas from the fridge. "Want one?" She doesn't speak. "Of course, not," Ben accepts. "It's not pure enough." He takes out a bottle and tosses it towards her, "Here. Have a water."

"Thanks," Evie unsurely responds, and when he sits down at the table so does she. "Anyway, I just thought I should apologize for saying that only a guy could completely forget himself around a pretty girl, when clearly you didn't have a weak mind or will: she just has a very strong personality."

It takes a minute for Ben to comment, "You didn't say anything."

"No," Evie counters, "but clearly I was thinking it, so I just thought I should let you know that I was… well, no longer thinking it."

"Right," Ben says again.

She watches him put the first can aside and open up the second, "Are you okay?" but he doesn't answer. "It's just that… you seem tired? Like, more than usual."

"Yeah. It's nothing," he bypasses. "It's just been a long week." He takes another drink of the Diet Coke, "Break any rules?" He looks up, "You know, aside from her doing it to avoid her emotions and not for heat?"

Evie looks down at the orangey table for a second, quiet for a moment, "No. I don't think so anyway." Ben waits, just staring at her with a frown. "We were shirtless, if that counts."

"Skin to skin contact," Ben recalls, before he sternly eyes her, "Keep your pants on."

"Of course," Evie uneasily breathes. She opens up her water, "So. Ah."

"I know there's not a lot of ways to say no to Mal," Ben firmly comments, "but it is possible." Her frown deepens, all signs of the uncomfortable laughter erased from it. "The next time she gets upset, don't take advantage of her."

"Advantage of her?" Evie comments in confusion.

Ben leans forward, "When people are in a high emotional state they aren't themselves. They say and do things they normally wouldn't. Mal didn't want to talk about this important, emotional thing you two were discussing, so she made herself forget that pain through sexual activity." He takes another drink, "It's a sadly common thing, really." before he gives Evie another look. "And something that should be avoided if at all possible."

Evie glances around the room, "Where's Doug?"

"The library," Ben quickly answers, before he finishes off the soda, crushes the can, and throws it into the paper bag. "Something about needing a quiet place to work."

She hears Ben scoff, before he goes over to the fridge and pulls out some more cans, restocking it as he does so. Evie slightly shakes her head, watching as he sits down and opens another one, "That's your third in like five minutes."

"Okay. I doubt it's only been five minutes," Ben denies, but he sets the can down and uncomfortably gazes, as Evie pulls each can to her side of the table. "What are you doing?" She quickly snatches the last can from him, and she stands from her seat as he stretches his arm out for it. "Come on. That's mine." Ben grins, "Really. Hand it here. This isn't funny."

"Are you sure?" Evie smiles back, because it seems kind of funny.

Ben stands up and tries to take the can back from her, but then she pulls it even farther from him. "Come on," he commands, before he grits his teeth, "Give it back. I need it."

"Why?" Evie frowns in question.

"Because, I want it."

She scrunches her eyebrows, "Oh. You want it." before she eyes up in thought. "So, you don't need it, then?"

"Look." Ben smiles in agitation, "I've just been really stressed lately, and the taste of that calms me down." He glares at her. "So, give it back before I go over there and tear it from you."

Evie observes him, before she collectively reassures, "Don't worry. You'll get it back," She moves her eyes down, "But I want you to sit first." Ben shifts his eyes between the can and her. "Come on. Don't you trust me?" He lets out a defeated breath and sits, before Evie sits back down as well. "Now. Tell me what's wrong and I will give this back to you."

He glances at the can and then wets his lips, "I told you. I'm just stressed."

"About what?" Evie prompts.

"You know." Ben lifts a shoulder, "Just things."

Evie lifts up the can, "Do you want this or not?"

He looks away for a moment, "I have a council meeting tomorrow." before he turns back to her and stretches out an arm. "Give it back."

She looks from his hand to him, "Why is it stressful?"

Ben lets his arm drop, dragging it back towards him over the cool, smooth surface, before he slightly shakes his head, "Because… Because of my father." He feels his heart quicken as his breaths become short and shallow. "He disapproves of what I'm about to do."

"And that's bad?" Evie assumes.

"I— I, ah—" He gulps, turning his eye down from Evie, and he recognizes it, "I want the soda." He looks back up at her, "I want the soda."

Evie observes his fidgety behavior, before she lifts the can up to hand it to him; however, when he goes to grab it she pulls back, "Let's be clear about something." She looks into his widened, hazel eyes. "You don't want the soda. You need it." She sees him about to deny it, "And I know you need it, because when you were standing you were so focused on the one in my hand that you didn't even think to take one from the table." Ben shifts his eyes towards the unopened cans, mouth slightly agape at the realization, before he sees Evie hand the soda to him again. She watches as he stares at it, "Go on. Take it." He darts his eyes between the can and her, before he carefully snatches it and takes a drink. Evie notices him take a deep, relaxing breath, "So, what else can you tell me?"

"Nothing," Ben answers, before he takes another drink; however, he shakes the can, as he finds it empty. Evie partially smiles, before Ben leans forward and points, "Hand me the lime."

When she picks up the can her smile completes, "This can?"

"Yes," Ben irritably comments. "That can."

"Tell me more first."

Ben sighs and leans back in his chair, "There's really nothing else to tell." but then he taps his fingers on the table. "He won't even be there."

"So, you could lie to him," Evie suggests.

Ben shakes his head, "Next week I have to inform the entire kingdom what I'm spending their tax dollars on at some event." before he pounds the table and then holds his hand in pain. "Merde." He releases a long breath, "Why does everything have to be so hard. It's like—" He lifts his hands up, "There's no way to do anything without consequence."

"Consequence?" Evie questions, and when she notices Ben rub his forehead in stress she slides the soda over to him.

He takes it, "You know, just when he thinks I'm not doing the right thing." before he opens it and takes a drink. He takes another one, reveling in the lime taste, before he looks back at Evie, "It's just so hard, you know? It's like I can never do anything right."

She watches him take another drink, "What happens when you don't do the right thing?"

Ben's mouth gapes, startled, "What?"

"You said before," Evie reminds him, glancing down, and there's a pause as she observes his frozen, almost paranoid state. "Your father. What does he do when he thinks you're not doing the right thing?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak; however, no words come out, and he opts to shrug a shoulder and take a drink instead, "I don't know. He's the spur of the moment type of person." At the sight of Evie he takes another drink, and then he clears his throat, "You know, like… I've never been grounded before." His mouth opens at the realization, "I've never been grounded before." and he raises his eyebrows before finishing off the can. He sets it aside, "There should be a cherry one."

Evie finds it and hands it to him, "So, what did he do instead?"

Ben makes a face, buying time before he opens the can and takes the first sip. He rests his elbow on the table as he raises his arm, "Nothing. You know, just…"

"Just?" Evie prompts. She watches him take another drink and hesitates, "Ben—"

"It just…" He eyes the soda as the tears moisten his eyes, "It depends on how he's feeling." He takes a drink of the Diet Coke and relaxes some, "Sometimes it's completely fine, he'll just point out every little flaw in my argument and ask me how I plan to solve problems that take place too far into the future and have too many variables to account for to actually solve." He quiets, "But others… Other times…" He shakes his head and takes another drink.

"What?" Evie softly asks, and when he looks up at her she can see the tears shimmering in his eyes.

He half laughs, "You know, I can just hear him now." and then he nods before gulping. "All about how what I'm doing can't work, that I will destroy the country that he built from nothing." Ben takes a couple gulps of his drink, just enough to keep the tears from falling, before he swirls the can in his hand, "How I'm too young, naive, and ambitious to be king. He has more experience. He knows better than I do." Ben looks up at Evie, and his voice cracks, "Am I a bad king?" He sees her open her mouth, "Be honest."

"Ben," she begins. "I've never actually seen you… well, work. I only just got here. I can't tell you what kind of king you are."

"It doesn't matter that you just got here," he counters, words staccato as he does so. "I become king after you arrived."

She hears the can shake, and when she looks down she can see him scraping it back-and-forth over the table. Evie stretches out her arm, lapping her fingers over his to keep the can from shaking; however, the moment Ben becomes still his breaths shake and the tears fall. She quietly asks, "Is this your first council meeting?"

"First budget meeting," he manages, before he takes two large breaths.

Evie pauses, "Then I can't tell you what kind of king you are." and then he eyes up at her. "Because, how you handle this meeting and budget will determine the kind of king you will be."

He slightly shakes his head, "I don't think I can do this."

"Yes, you can," she reassures.

He shakes his head harder, "No. I can't." before he looks up at her with pleading eyes, urging her to understand the reasons even he doesn't know. "I can't disobey him. I can't."

Evie feels the can shake more, and she places her other hand over his to keep it steady, "Look." She widens her dark brown eyes at Ben, "He may be your father, but you're the king. And you have a right to do what you think is best for your people."

Ben notices his eyes dart back-and-forth, before he shuts them hard and places his hand to his forehead, "I want to do what's best for them." He opens his eyes, "But it's hard." and they shift to the side as he slightly laughs, "Really, really hard."

Evie lets go of the soda can, eyeing the scratched paint of the table before she observes him in hesitance, "I guess the question is…" He looks at her. "What is the cost of helping your people, and is it worth it?"

It takes a minute for Ben to comment, "So many people are suffering." and he lets out a soft breath. "I know I can't help everyone at once, but…" It's quiet for a moment, before he accepts, "I suppose the first thing I'm going to have to learn as king is to put the needs of my citizens above my own."

Evie partially smiles with raised eyebrows, as warm tears intrude her eyes, "That's very honorable of you." She sees his look, and it's quiet before she comments, "I know it's hard, but you have people you can come to if you need to." He doesn't respond. "Hey." She waits for him to look back up at her, "I'm here to talk to if you need me. Okay?"

Ben makes a noise, shutting his eyes for a second, "Thank you, but—" and then he recalls what he had said to the waitress. "It won't be necessary."

"Yeah," Evie shifts her eyes down, then up. "I never thought so either."

* * *

\- I imagine that people who didn't have a passionate band teacher or other background in music wouldn't know what staccato means. I tried finding a different word for it, but I failed. I thought stacated was a word and that it would have fit better, but I looked it up and the word doesn't seem to exist. Any suggestions on a word I could have used other than staccato?... I'm probably just picky, but even saying his words were chopped didn't seem to do justice. It has to be short, on point, with pauses in between. You know, like how someone would talk if they were super stressed. Also, question, which is better in your opinion: in between or in-between. Apparently inbetween isn't a word. Also, I'm fairly sure that I've had to have mixed up compliments with complements quite a few times in this story, because I just caught it today... Kind of hating English right now. If any of you aren't American and therefore were probably required to learn several languages, can you tell me if other languages have this issue where a ton of words will look alike or there will be twenty (slight exaggeration) different words that make the same sound? I'm just frustradedly curious... and I'm also sure by this point that frustratedly isn't a word, so I don't know why I keep using it.

\- That's it for now. Upcoming chapters will be: Jay and Carlos featuring Chad, a couple for the dinner at Audrey's, and then another about Carlos. Or at least that's what I've got planned. If I add as much as I did with these last two chapters, then that description may no longer qualify; however, since I have internet and can research things I'm pretty sure I can just write in chronological order and not jump around like I did this last week. What did you guys think of the last five chapters, by the way? Was it better to jump around or did it just make it more confusing than usual? Let me know. While you're at it you can tell me your favorite and least favorite parts, if you so wish. Have a nice day/night. I hope you enjoyed.


	110. Adventurous

\- So, because I've just been so terribly unmotivated to write the next chapter, I thought I would just edit this one so that you guys have something to read in the meantime. I should be going to the library after my appointment tomorrow, so I won't have any excuse to put it off at that point... I really don't know why I didn't even start it yet. Like, I know what's going to happen and I did the research for it. It just... It must either be that the scenes I thought up are either boring to me at this point or I'm just avoiding writing it because of the subject matter and such. Either way, it's taking longer than it needs to.

\- **RadioDog77** **1** ) I think I may have mentioned this before, but I actually did read some of the books. Before I even started writing the fanfic I wanted to look into the cannon storyline, so I found transcripts of the first book or two online. I stopped at the point where Ben was heading off to slay the dragon, though, because it was all just not making a lot of sense to me by that point. I mean, it's like a comedy. They don't have to king setting up council with other world leaders. Instead, they have the Council of Sidekicks, which is purposely described in ridiculous ways (like the mermaids in the bathtub, when really Ariel's sister should have just turned human for a couple hours and represent her people like a good queen would). I understand why they would have the stubborn dwarf Grumpy there to negotiate, but I feel like Doc would be the more diplomatic one. Anyway, also, I just really didn't like how Mal can turn into a dragon and Ben was on his way to slay a dragon without even bothering to ask her if she knows how to communicate with them... Aside from all of that, the books just add way too much to what already happens in the movies. I mean, not to dis a set of books it seems like you may like (and I don't blame you. Without context from the movies I'm sure I would have found them interesting too), but it's like it tries to fill gaps that don't exist. Everything is just scrunched so close together in plot to the point where it doesn't make sense... I won't even mention how the characters in the movie interact with each other like they've known each other for a long time when in the books (aside from Mal and Jay) they all literally just met a week prior to going to Auradon. Granted, the scepter test was pretty cool, but if the purpose behind the whole book was to give the characters one event to bond over, then I really don't like it. In real life people would need a reason to get pushed together again. When a plain crashes you don't just search out the other survivors. No. You wait until you're all psychically linked and are forced to help each other... I recommend the new TV show Manifest from NBC for anyone who likes time travel... or God. I'm not a believer, but it seems to be a theme and I honestly don't mind. **2** ) Anyway. Thank you for your name suggestions as well, but I already translated the main family names and such. I really did like Hayden, so I thought about changing the name I had for Jay; however, I've also been trying to pick names for the characters that will usually originate from their language or heritage, and then I will usually have the meaning behind the name match what I want to do with the characters. Hayden, as it turns out, is of Welsh origin from the Germanic word for heathen. Now, when I was looking up Arabic names for Jay's and Aziz's families I found Jake, which is actually of Hebrew origin but due to religious influence would probably be more well-known to the area Jaffar grew up compared to the welsh name Hayden. I do have to thank you very much so for introducing me to the name, but I sadly don't think it would be a good fit for Jay's character. However, because I had absolutely no idea what to do with Chad's roommate, I gave him the name instead just because I really do like it and don't want it to go to waste. I hope you don't mind. **3** ) Here's some names of other characters: Carlos- Caine, Evie- Eve, and Doug- Adam (all from biblical contexts). Now, as you may know, technically the characters have middle names but no last names. I plan to change that. So, Carlos's last name De Vil actually means from the place his mother comes from. So, I'm going to have his last name as Villanueva, which I like because it's like villain. Now, Mal won't actually have a last name at first, because her grandmother was a fairy hiding from humans whilst harboring a dragon, and her mother never tells her who she married. So, until she finds out about being Harmony's sister, she won't know her last name is technically Ayers (which means heir in Middle English). Jay's last name is Qadir (capable, powerful in Arabic). Now, Evie's last name is just the German name for Queen and Chad's last name has been changed to the French equivalent of his (Charmant), so their names would be Eve Koenigin (oe for the umlet o) and Charles Charmant. Now, for my absolute favorite. Ben's last name is Bete, which is beast in French. I only wish that I could keep his name as Ben, because I really like his first name the way it is especially when paired with Bete as a last name. The way things are with copyright, though, his name is going to have to be Beau (French for handsome). It's not a total loss, though. Apparently Bell without the E at the end is a boy's name in French (at least where I looked), so I can have him make a joke about how at least he wasn't named Bell. And then I can also have someone ask about a bow tie, so whatever. I know this was a long answer to your comment, but I hope you thought it was at least interesting. For those of you who weren't required to read this paragraph but did so anyway, thank you very much. And now, onto the story. -

* * *

 **Adventurous**

 **(Day 75: Thursday Noon)**

"Wow," Carlos comments in surprise. "He actually did that?" Mal nods with widened eyes and a frown. "Nice guy."

"More like embarrassing," she nearly smiles. "I mean, what was stopping his parents from finding out about it right there and then?"

Jay frowns as he pokes his fork into the noodles, "You're not going to like this." before he turns towards Mal. "But I think it's good that he knows."

She lifts her eyebrows at him, "Really?"

"He's your boyfriend," Jay reminds her. "If he didn't know, then you'd probably have to go through another date trying to figure out what to do with the wine." He pauses, "And I don't think you could have passed up that drink forever."

"Not forever," Mal mumbles. "Just, you know, until I'm no longer the freak that attempted to assault their beloved princess."

"Mal," Evie sadly comments. "It wasn't like that. You know that."

She eyes the sandwiches on her plate, "I'm not sure if I know anything anymore." before she hysterically laughs. "I mean, I can't even get through one dinner with Ben's family without everyone talking in French at some point."

"French?" Carlos questions in interest.

"Yeah," Evie seethes. "He kind of really hates English."

Doug comes over and sits across from Evie, "Hey. What's up?"

She smiles, "Not much. I was just telling everyone how much Ben dislikes English."

"Yeah," Doug frowns before scratching the side of his face. "There's a good reason, actually." He shrugs, "Or, at least, I think it's a good reason."

"And that would be?" Mal tensely asks.

He hesitates, "Well, I don't know how many people actually know this." but when he sees her glare he continues. "Ben didn't really start to learn English until first grade. All he had to learn in kindergarten was the alphabet, because it was basically just number patterns and letter tracing worksheets, and his family does typically speak French at home. So—"

Evie scrunches her eyebrows, "They didn't prepare him?"

When he fails to speak fast enough Mal comments, "He was going to be king, and they didn't think he should know English?"

"I doubt it was like that," Doug defends. "They were probably just really busy. And anyway, it's not that uncommon for people to have a family language they speak at home. There's some people on the reservation who don't even speak English. It's just German." He shrugs, "And then, of course, a lot of us learned sign language, because my dad's mute."

"Mute?" Carlos questions.

"He can't speak," Evie answers, before she eyes over the cafeteria. "Where's Ben anyway? Shouldn't he be here?"

"Hold on," Doug sighs before taking out his phone, and after a moment he looks up at Evie and turns his phone upside-down onto the table.

"Well?" Mal prompts. "Where is he?"

He glances between Mal and Evie, before he uncomfortably states, "The weights' room. He's in the weights' room."

Mal watches as Evie immediately complains, "What? The weights' room?" Doug doesn't speak. "Why doesn't he have to be here? I have to be here." She sees him about to speak, "No. Here I'm told to sit down in front of the entire cafeteria with something manageable to eat, and he's off working out?"

"Ben's athletic. He needs to find some time somewhere in his schedule to work out," Doug excuses, "and it's not like he doesn't eat. He eats all the time."

"He's not eating now," she counters.

"No," Doug submits, "but he eats enough at dinner and while studying to make up for it." He sees her scowl in silence. "Look. I'll talk to him if it makes you feel better. Okay?"

Evie opens her mouth to speak; however, before she can she watches Chad come up to their table, and Carlos turns to where she looks. Chad smiles, "Hey, bitch."

"Hey yourself," Carlos slightly smiles back.

"So, I have some homework I want your help with," he slowly informs.

Carlos is taken aback, "You mean right now?"

"Preferably before the next class." He lightly chuckles, "You up for it?"

"Yeah. Sure," Carlos answers; however, after Chad starts to walk off and Carlos stands from his seat he feels the hand grab him, before he turns back and sees Jay with narrowed eyes.

He furiously whispers, "So, what? You're selling your mind _and body_ to him now?"

Carlos gives him a look, "Believe me. I'd much rather be doing your homework." and after a moment he eyes between Jay's hand and him. "Let go."

After Jay does as he's told Carlos walks away, and Mal sees him cross his arms, "You don't look very happy."

"They're obviously fucking," Jay frustrates, as he watches them leave the cafeteria.

It takes a moment for Doug to comment, "I don't think Chad is like that."

Jay gives him a pointed look, "Like what?"

Doug fumbles, "Well, ah, you know…" He continues to stare at him. "Adventurous. I just don't think Chad could be adventurous like you." He nervously adds on, "Plus, he has a girlfriend. He can't be… adventurous."

"He knows?" Mal comments.

"He suspects," Jay answers as he continues to look at him. "How about you shut up and stop talking about things you don't understand?"

"That's good," Doug stands down. "I'll just do that."

Mal looks at Jay, "You can't be mad at him, you know. He's allowed to… to have other friends. You never said he couldn't."

"But Chad?" Jay exasperates. "Out of everyone, it had to be Chad?"

Mal raises her eyebrows at him, "It's Auradon, Jay. People aren't exactly lining up to experiment with their…" She raises an eyebrow at Doug, "Adventurous, was it?"

"Yeah," he uncomfortably comments.

Mal slightly shakes her head, "These people are afraid of sex. You can't blame Carlos if he found someone who isn't."

When Jay doesn't speak Evie comments, "I'm leaving." before she stands from her seat.

"But you didn't finish your orange," Doug protests.

Evie gives him a look, "It's an orange. Geeze." She shakes her head, "I've got work to do, and I'm not staying if no one else is bothering to either." before she struts off.

* * *

"Hey. Ben." When Doug walks up to the circular table he notices the can, "Did you drink this much soda before?"

"I would think so," Ben comments as he copies the information into his notebook.

"Okay. Look." Doug waits for him to look up. "I think we need to talk."

Ben sets the pencil down and rests his arm on the table, "What about?"

Doug can't help but keep eying the soda can, "Well, first off..." He gestures to the can, "What's up with all the Diet Coke?"

Ben glances between the can and Doug, "It's a soda. It's diet… It's a drink."

He gives him a look, "You know that even diet soda has caffeine in it, right?" and then Ben eyes up in irritation. "You ever think that that could be what's keeping you up?"

Ben widens his eyes at him, "If you would remember, there was a time when I drank energy drinks filled with caffeine." He pauses, but Doug just continues to look at him. "I would try to pull an all-nighter whenever I got behind on my homework."

"So?"

"So," Ben pointedly states, "I had to stop using them, because I kept falling asleep right in the middle of drinking them. I really don't think caffeine is the issue here."

Doug sighs, "Still. You're king of the country. Don't you think you should be setting a better example for your citizens?"

Ben shakes his head before picking his pencil back up, "I really don't need a lecture right now. I'm in the middle of reading a book full of them."

He notices the Intro to Law textbook, but he persists, "You have an influence over your people, Ben. If it turned out that children were copying your behavior just because you're their leader, then what would you do?"

"I would tell them to stop putting me on a pedestal like some kind of god," Ben looks up and shouts. "I'm only—"

Doug notices Ben's expression soften, "You can't say that anymore, can you?"

It takes a moment for Ben to quietly respond, "I guess the fact that I'm… that I'm a… a hybrid, it still hasn't sunken in quite yet." before he finishes off the soda, crushes the can, and stands to put it in the paper bag with the others.

Doug watches Ben go to the fridge to grab another, "I understand that you're only just a person, but your actions still has influence over people." He sees Ben turn around and start on the soda. "If you won't do it for your people, at least do it for Evie?"

"Evie?" Ben lowers the can as he furrows his brows.

Doug takes a step forward, "Skipping lunch to exercise? You can't honestly have thought that was a good idea."

"I felt like lifting some weights," Ben reasons, before he glances down for a moment. "You know, I was just in that kind of mood."

"And because of that Evie didn't bother sticking around for lunch," he softly informs.

Ben's voice raises, "It's not my fault Evie has an eating disorder."

"No," Doug accepts, "but you're not helping her either." He slightly shakes his head, "You ever think about how this impacts Mal, seeing Evie do this to herself? Because, I haven't known Evie for very long, and even I can't help but feel terrible about what's happening to her."

Ben gives a tired look, "And what does that have to do with me?"

"Because," Doug sternly responds, "your eating habits— or lack of them, I should say— is having a negative impact on Evie." He sees Ben look away in annoyance. "Having her see you skip meals and then leaving a bunch of wrappers and cans on the table for her to see, that's not good for her." He adjusts his glasses, "And I think that if you really cared about Mal, then you would care about the health of her best friend too."

He turns back to him and firmly comments, "I'm not changing the way I eat just because she doesn't know how to."

Doug takes a calming breath, "I'm just asking you to eat something at every meal, to show up at every meal." He sees Ben shake his head. "Why not? What's so important that you can't do something as simple as sit and eat for five minutes?"

Ben's mouth slightly gapes, and when he speaks it's a lot quieter, "Well. It's never really just five minutes, is it?" as he glances down at the dark carpet.

It takes a minute for Doug to answer, "No." and he pauses. "But it would be healthier for you to eat normally. Or, at least, more…"

"Consistently," Ben offers.

"Well. Yeah," Doug agrees. "It can't be good for you to go a whole day without eating and then just eat an entire pizza for dinner."

He shifts his eyes, "I'd hardly say it's like that."

"Still," Doug continues on. "Your life needs structure. And maybe, just maybe, if you ate more regularly, then you could sleep more regularly too."

There's a long silence, before Ben says, "I have to go."

Doug watches as he heads for the door, "Ben." and then he turns around. "Where are you going?"

He frowns, "Well. It's getting late. I was thinking about dinner."

"But dinner isn't served for another couple hours," he comments in confusion. "Wouldn't it be better to wait rather than to make something yourself?"

Ben glances down again, before he meets his roommate's eyes, "I was also thinking about those macadamia nut cookies from Starlit Nights." Doug doesn't say anything. "Don't wait up for me." Ben quietly warns, "It will take longer than five minutes." before he heads out the door and Doug is left staring as he stands in the middle of the dorm.

* * *

"I think I finished the research," Jay comments as he and Carlos sit at the table.

Carlos looks up from his homework, "Really?"

He hears the excitement under his hesitant tone, "Yeah." Jay shrugs, "As much as I'll be able to anyway."

"So?" Carlos slowly inquires.

"If it's okay, I'd like to start with something more normal."

"Like?" he unsurely questions.

"Well," Jay starts, "how do you feel about spanking?"

"Spanking?" He glances down for a moment, "I guess we could try it."

When he looks back up Jay evenly responds, "Unless, of course, Chad has already given you something more than that."

"Uh, no." Carlos uneasily breaths, "He doesn't know… He doesn't know." before he scratches the back of his neck. "It's really a one-sided thing with him." He rests his arm on the textbook and eyes down, "All I usually get out of it is money, so…"

"So, you're still interested?" he continues on.

Carlos looks at him and nods, "Yeah. I think so."

"Okay, then." Jay stands from his seat, "Let's try it."

"What? Now?" Carlos comments in shock.

"You're the one that's been asking for it nonstop all month," Jay reminds him.

"Right," Carlos recalls, before he glances over the room. "How should we do it, then?"

"The traditional way is over the knee, isn't it?" He nods. "Well. Okay, then." Jay takes a few steps for space before kneeling down, "Get over here."

Carlos slowly walks over and then half laughs, "I'm a little nervous."

Jay frowns and raises his eyebrows, "Well. If you don't want to do it." but Carlos interrupts before Jay can stand.

"No!" He takes a couple breaths, "I want to do it." as his eyes dart down and then up. "I want to try this," he firmly decides.

"Okay, then." Jay pauses, "Is this with or without the pants up?"

Carlos thinks, "It would probably be more effective with them down."

After another moment Jay comments, "Well?" Carlos nods and then undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, before he kneels down next to Jay, places his abdomen over his leg, and uses a hand to push his pants and boxers down.

When Carlos had both hands placed on the floor Jay questions, "Ready?" He nods, and a second later Jay slaps him. "That okay?"

"Yeah," Carlos softly responds.

He hits him again and then continues at a steady pace, "Do you think Chad would ever do this for you?"

"I—" Carlos's breath escapes at the hit, and he gulps, "I don't know." There's another. "I don't think so." He takes a deep breath, "I wouldn't ask. I mean, I don't think of him like that."

"Huh?" Jay questions.

"Like, I'm not that attracted to him." He shuts his eyes for a second, "It's just— just the money, ya know." and he feels himself become uneasy. "Go harder."

Jay complies, "This good?"

Carlos makes a noise, "Yes." He breathes, "Yes."

Jay nods, "Good." but after a couple more hits he stands to his feet, leaving Carlos to fall onto the floor.

He looks up and complains, "You can't just stop."

"You say I can't just stop." Jay points a thumb to himself, "Well, I say you can't just fuck whoever you want."

Carlos pulls his pants back up, "But you mess around with girls all the time."

"That's different," Jay nearly yells.

"How?" Carlos says louder as he sits up. "How is that different?"

"Because," Jay exasperates, "I'm not putting their junk in my mouth." Carlos silences, and Jay raises his arms. "Really? Chad? What made you think that was a good idea?"

"It wasn't my," Carlos begins, but Jay talks over him.

"You know the reputation he has, right?" Carlos gives him a look. "You don't know how many people he's been with. How do you know he didn't give you a disease or something?"

"I doubt he would knowingly spread a disease," Carlos irritably answers.

"And what?" Jay continues on. "Because he's a prince, he can't have one. Is that it?"

"No," Carlos lets out. "But I don't think—"

"That's right. You don't think," Jay interrupts. "If you did, you wouldn't have done it." Carlos's mouth cracks open in disbelief. "You want this thing to continue? Then get yourself checked out. Until then, no sex, no making out, and especially no pain of any kind. Got it?"

Carlos furrows his eyebrows, "You're so mean. You know that?"

Jay frowns and then shakes his head, "Whatever." before he heads out the door and Carlos can hear the door slam behind him. He places a hand to his forehead, rubbing it, before he hears the whimpering and turns his head to see the dog. "Hey." He reaches out to pet it, but the dog continues to make the same sound. "It's okay." Carlos frowns, "I'm okay." before he looks back at the dorm door. "It's fine."

* * *

"Hey?" Chad questions when he sees Carlos at the door. He glances back inside before informing Carlos, "I don't need any assistance with homework tonight. I've got it covered."

"No. Ah, I know," Carlos uneasily says, glancing down for a moment. "It's just…" He turns his head back up and sees Chad listening with interest. "I need to talk to you." He sees a few guys walk past, before he continues, "You know. About the experiment."

"Can't we talk about the experiment later?" Chad irritably questions. "I don't want to bother my roommate with the details."

"You should have thought of that before you practically told all of my friends that we were working on this project together," Carlos counters in frustration.

Chad hisses, "I didn't say anything."

"My friends aren't stupid," Carlos comments. "You didn't need to say anything for them to figure it out. All you had to do was come up to us and tell me that getting your assignment done before the next class was optional." Chad doesn't respond. "Look. I just need some information from you so that I can solve a problem that our experiment made."

Chad sighs, "Fine." before he steps aside. "Come on in." Carlos hears the door shut, before Chad sits down at the table and he goes to sit across from him. "So. What's the problem?"

Carlos glances over at the black haired guy reading on the bed, and he notices his grey eyes catch him before he looks back at Chad, "The experiment." Chad gives a cautious look. "So, you know how plants can sometimes catch disease?"

"Yeah?" Chad furrows is eyebrows in confusion.

"Well," Carlos continues, "Jay was concerned that one of the plants could have had a disease, and he, ah, is worried that the disease could spread." He observes Chad's blank expression for any sign of thought. "He's worried that if one of your plants has a disease, then, uh, a plant that has interaction with both your plants and his could cause his to become sick too."

After Carlos finishes speaking Chad shakes his head, "I'm sorry. You've completely lost me." Carlos sighs. "I'm really not that good at analogies or… whatever that was."

"He's asking you if you have a sexually transmittable disease," Chad's roommate interrupts, before they turn towards him. "What? I have an A in English."

Chad gives him a semi-cautious look, "Why would he need to know if I have an STD?"

"Because he's your assistant," Hayden frowns as he sits up from the pillows.

"Yeah," Chad counters, "because I have a girlfriend who won't allow me to have a female assistant."

"Where's the plants?" he counters.

"What?"

"The plants," Hayden emphasizes, marking his page and setting the novel aside. "This experiment of diseased plants you two are working on. Where is it?"

Chad gives Carlos an irritated expression, "I don't know. Where are they, Carlos?"

"Sorry," Carlos mumbles, and then Chad shakes his head.

He looks between his roommate and Carlos, "I'm going to say this once: I don't have an STD or STI, okay? I get myself tested every time I have a checkup, so probably four or more times a year." Chad eyes Carlos, "Now. Why don't you tell me about this Jay guy?"

"He's your teammate," Carlos uneasily states.

"No," Chad sternly replies. "Tell me why you didn't tell me you were already with someone. Don't you think that would have been important for me to know?"

"We're not exclusive," Carlos timidly explains. "He's with girls all the time."

"That only proves my point," he angrily responds.

"Look," Carlos tries to reason. "You didn't want anyone to know about us. Jay's the same way." Chad's expression softens. "And, honestly, if it weren't for the incentive, I probably wouldn't be doing anything with you in the first place." He pauses, "I saw a chance to get more money, and I took it. I wasn't thinking."

It takes a minute for Chad to comment, "You need to get tested." and before Carlos can speak he gives a questioning look. "Does the island even have STD screenings?"

"Not very good ones," Carlos glances down. "Ah, we know the symptoms, but…" He shakes his head, "No. Not really."

"And how many people has Jay been with?" Carlos shrugs, and then Chad nods, "I'm postponing any experiments until this is solved." Carlos observes him but doesn't say anything. "You'll still be doing my homework, of course, but I can't risk getting sick like that. You know how embarrassing that is? I would have to pick up medication from the clinic and everything."

"I understand," Carlos softly responds, and after a moment of tense quiet he questions, "So, how does someone get screened around here?"

"For you?" Chad raises his eyebrows. "There's a specific clinic that people go to if they don't have a very good doctor, because they specialize in the stuff, you know, and so would be able to help them better." He almost laughs, "I have no idea what it's even called, though."

Chad's roommate interrupts, "Don't worry." and Carlos looks at him. "You can probably just look it up."

"And if I can't find it?" Carlos worries.

He smiles, "Then I guess you're just going to have to tell the headmistress all about how you've been fucking two different guys on campus."

"Don't listen to him," Chad intervenes. "He's just messing with you."

"Oh," Carlos uneasily says. "Good. That's, uh, good."

"She probably would know," Chad thinks for a moment, "but save yourself the embarrassment and just ask your phone. It should tell you."

Carlos looks up, "Uh."

"You do have a phone?" Chad asserts.

"Not really," Carlos slowly admits.

Chad grins at the absurdity, "What am I paying you for?"

"Mostly," Carlos evenly responds. "Clothes. And school supplies." He looks up, "And a laptop. I thought I should get a laptop."

"Well, you can type the question into a laptop," Chad makes a face. "But you really need to get yourself a phone. You won't survive here without one."

Carlos partly smiles, "Is that figuratively or…"

"Just trust me," Chad comments. "You need one."

Carlos lets out a breath, "Okay, then. I will get right on that after I get tested."

"You know, you can't just walk in there," Chad comments. "I'm pretty sure you're going to have to make an appointment."

"An appointment?"

His smile widens, "That's how it usually works."

Carlos sighs, "I'll have to use Evie's phone."

"Okay, then." Chad solves. "Now, is that it or do you have any other personal questions you would like to ask me?" He raises his eyebrows, "Maybe you'd like to ask me if I'm bleeding from the ass?"

"No," he grimaces. "I really don't need to know that."

"Okay, then," Chad says again, before he stands from his seat and slaps Carlos on the shoulder. "Well, good luck." He heads over to the door, "Let me know how it goes." before he opens it and smiles. "Ladies first."

Carlos gives an annoyed look, before he stands from his seat, "I'm not a girl."

Chad waits for him to near the door, before he responds, "Okay." and then grins. "Bye, then, bitch."

Carlos laughs as he exits the room, "Night, Chad."

* * *

\- Would keeping a child from being able to communicate with people outside of the household be considered abuse? I mean, yeah, probably, but what about just keeping them from learning the national language if they are still being taught how to speak the family's language? I would think so, but I'm not sure about the technicalities of it. Surely, if it was found out that the parents were capable of teaching the child the national language and they purposely didn't to keep the child from speaking up about things, then that would be considered abusive. But what if it was assumed that the parents were truly just busy and didn't maliciously intend not to teach the child the second language? From a legal standpoint, it seems pretty iffy to me. Would it just be looked passed or would the parents still be considered neglectful? After all, it's not like the child was kept out of school.


	111. Familiar Taste of Poison

**Familiar Taste of Poison**

 **(Day 77: Saturday Evening)**

"I'm so glad you could make it," Audrey grins, but as she nears Mal, Mal holds a hand out to stop her.

She uncomfortably smiles, "I don't do hugs."

Audrey frowns, "You hug your friends."

"My friends?" Mal comments in unsureness.

"Evie and Jay," she pointedly states.

Mal half laughs, "Ah, yeah. Because, they're Evie and Jay. I'm friends with Carlos too, but you probably wouldn't see me hugging him."

"So, what is it then?" Audrey raises her eyebrows and places a hand on her hip. "You kiss Jay too?"

"Ew. No," Mal makes a face.

"Audrey," Ben interrupts, and then she turns towards him. "We just got here." He looks between them, "Can't the two of you just be civil for once?"

"Okay. Fine," Audrey breathes, before she smiles wide again and nods. "I'm sorry."

After a moment of silence Ben tensely questions, "Mal?"

She looks at him, "What?"

He folds his hands and uncomfortably laughs, "Uh, it's customary for both parties to apologize to each other."

"Why?" Mal slightly shakes her head. "I wouldn't mean it."

"Well, yeah," Ben wets his lips, "but it lets people move on from the disagreement."

She gives him a look, "Doesn't that kind of make the word meaningless? I mean, if you're not going to say it when you mean it, then what makes it so important to say?"

"She's just like her mother," Queen Leah whispers to her daughter, and Mal turns at the complaint.

Aurora tries to smile, "How about we sit for dinner?"

"I like that idea," Belle agrees, before she takes Adam's arm and the group walks over to the dining room.

When the waiter comes out Mal watches as the small bowls are set in front of each person, before Ben whispers, "It's not the main course. Don't worry."

Mal attempts to smile back, "Worried. No. Of course, not." before she picks up the fork and runs it through the deep brown liquid.

"It's broth," Audrey comments. "You eat it with a spoon."

She feels the stares and then uncomfortably replies, "Broth." before she looks up at Audrey and hesitates. "Does that mean there's water in it?"

"Probably. Why?" She jokes, "Are you allergic?"

Mal carefully places the fork back onto the red, cloth napkin, "Kind of. Yeah." and when she looks up again she notices Audrey's frown. "My body is just really good at purposing water, I guess? It won't kill me, but too much can make me feel sick."

"Broth is just water a bone has been cooked in," Aurora comments, before she attempts to smile at Mal, "You don't have to eat it. The actual dinner will be better."

"No, uh, it's fine," Mal frowns. "I'll try some." She glances down at it, "I just won't be able to finish it."

Ben smiles, "I like it."

Audrey's mouth gapes, as she sees him drinking from the bowl, "Ben!"

"What?" he smiles.

She irritably glances at his empty bowl, "You were supposed to use a spoon."

"But that would have taken forever," he laughs off.

"I apologize," Adam unsurely interrupts, and they all look at him. "I'm afraid he might have learned that from me. I can be a little impatient at times."

"No surprise there," Leah responds, and then Aurora gives her a look.

"It's really not an issue," Audrey's father reassures.

"Thank you," Adam nods, and Ben looks away.

He frowns, "So, what's for the main course?"

Aurora smiles and then rings the bell, before the man comes back out, "I think we're ready for the dinner portion." The man nods, before he takes a minute to return with the next platter and replaces each person's bowl with a plate of beef, potatoes, steamed vegetables, and garlic bread.

"You're not allergic to anything else, are you?" Audrey questions.

Her tone had been of annoyance, but when Mal looks at her she sees the seriousness, "No. I'm not allergic to anything else."

"Good," Audrey replies, before she smiles about the table and offers her hands to her father and Mal.

Ben notices her eye the hand in question, "They're Catholic. She's offering to have you join in prayer."

Mal looks at him and shakes her head, "I'm not very religious."

"Neither am I," Ben frowns.

"You're asking me to join," she assumes.

"We're at their castle. We should." He sees her hesitance, "All it can do is make them feel better about things, and you don't even have to say the closing line if you don't want to. Just take her hand and quietly listen."

Mal sighs, "Fine." before she takes Audrey's hand and Ben takes hers.

After everyone's hands are joined Audrey's mother starts the prayer, and when Mal notices their eyes shut she shuts hers as well; however, as the prayer continues on she peeks them open and sees Ben's eyes are open again as well. He smiles at her, and she slightly shakes her head, trying not to laugh, as Ben uses his eyes to show Mal they're still praying. "In Jesus' name, Amen."

Ben quickly looks away from Mal and frowns, "Amen." but Mal can see the corners of his mouth crack a smile before he turns to her again.

She smiles as well, before Audrey comments, "Oh. Good. Here we are."

Mal watches as the waiter sets the wine glasses in front of them, and Mal reaches out for hers before pulling her hand back. "What is this?" Ben frowns.

"I thought we could make a toast," Audrey grins as she raises her glass, before she turns to Mal, "to accept our transgressions, forgive, and move on with our lives."

Ben notices her eye the glass, "You don't have to do it."

"What are you talking about?" Audrey complains. "I thought you wanted peace."

"Yeah," Ben stresses, "but is a toast really necessary?"

"It's a promise," she asserts. "A toast brings good fortune and wellbeing."

"Now you're just being superstitious."

"To peace," Mal says, and when they turn back to her she has her glass raised.

Audrey smiles, "To peace." before she clinks her glass with Mal's, and when the ringing stops she takes a sip; however, Mal just stares at hers as she sets it back onto the table.

"You have to take a sip to complete the toast," Audrey complains, "or it doesn't count."

"No, she doesn't," Ben interrupts, before he quickly turns towards Mal, "You don't need to do this."

"Ben," his mother says; however, just as he looks at her, Audrey's father interrupts. "The wine is high quality. There won't be a lot of water in it."

"That's not the point," Ben nearly shouts.

"Then what is it?" Audrey irritably replies.

"The point is," he enunciates, "is that you shouldn't be shoving alcohol down someone's throat. They should be able to choose if they want to drink it themselves."

Audrey looks at Mal and raises her eyebrows, "Do you want to?"

Ben sees her unsureness, "Hey." and then Audrey turns back to him. "There's no way you would do this to Aziz."

"No," Audrey acknowledges, "because it's against his religion."

"And what?" Ben counters. "Someone can't chose not to drink just out of their own will do to better for themselves?"

Audrey pauses, "She can abstain from drinking later." before she turns back to Mal. "If she wants this truce, then she will drink to the toast now."

Ben notices Mal's hand shake, and he quietly comments, "She can't make you do this."

Audrey sternly looks at Ben, "She will if she really wants peace."

"You can't make someone do something they don't want to do."

"And yet," Audrey counters, "if she wants this truce enough, then she will."

"Darling," her father steps in, "maybe you should just accept the toast as is."

"Or," Audrey turns back to Mal, "I can make her promise never to hurt me again."

"She won't," Ben reassures.

"You don't know that," Audrey counters.

"Okay," Mal shouts. "Fine." Everyone looks at her as she gulps down the red wine and slams the glass back onto the table. "There," Mal widens her eyes at Audrey. "I drank it. You happy now?" There's a long silence as Mal's expression softens, her mouth gaping as she covers it with a hand and breathes, "I drank it. I actually drank it." Ben reaches for her, but she places an arm up in between them, "Don't." She slowly puts it back down, feeling her heart begin to race, "I should go… wait in the car."

"Mal," Ben says as she stands from her seat, and as she begins to walk away he turns back to Audrey. "You see what you did?"

"Hey," Audrey defends herself, "it's not my fault you chose an alcoholic over me."

Ben gives her a look as his mother stands from her seat and strides after Mal, before she sees her in the hallway, "Mal." She calls again, but it's only when she reaches out for Mal's shoulder, turning her around, that she faces Mal and sees the tears. "I thought you told us that you've had alcohol occasionally."

"Yeah," Mal laughs with a pained grin. "Occasionally. As in, occasionally I would drink as much as I could without getting completely sick."

Belle notices Mal's breathing quicken, "Don't worry. It's okay." before she places a hand on her shoulder; however, it's then that her eyes brightly glow. "Mal?"

"I," Mal begins, but her words are cut off as she reaches for her heart.

"Ben," Belle yells, and it's only a moment later that he runs into the hallway, the others pacing behind him.

As he nears the two of them, he slows, "What's wrong?" but it's then that he sees Mal's eyes and unsteady breathing. "Hey," he takes his mother's place. "You're okay."

"What's wrong?" Audrey's father questions.

Ben makes a noise, "Could be another panic attack." before he gets Mal to look at him. "Just try to breath. One breath. That's it." He notices her lips move as she blinks, before her eyes roll up, her lids closing as he catches her in his arms and kneels onto the floor.

"Are panic attacks supposed to do that?" Audrey stresses.

"I don't think so," Ben grimaces, before he moves the hair from Mal's face. "Something's wrong."

"We should get her to the hospital," Aurora comments.

Her husband nods in agreement, "That's a good idea."

"She's a hybrid," Ben frustrates. "We can't have just some random doctor look at her."

"Honey," his mother calmly intervenes. "We have to do something."

"Evie," he remembers, before he reaches for his phone. "I should call Evie."

"You're kidding?" Audrey disbelieves, and then Ben looks at her. "You're going to your girlfriend's hookup for help?"

Ben scratches his nose before looking through the contacts in his phone, "She's known her longer. She'll know what to do."

"But you're just proving to your girlfriend that you can't help her yourself," She continues on. "And you're proving to Evie that she's better for Mal than you."

Ben widens his eyes at her, "Audrey. I really don't need your help right now." before she silences and he calls the number.

"How's the dinner going?" Evie answers.

"There's something wrong with Mal," Ben hurriedly explains. "She couldn't' breathe, and her eyes were glowing, and— and…" He breathes, "I'm pretty sure it wasn't a panic attack." and then he sees her closed eyes. "She fainted. She hasn't gotten up yet."

"Hmm." She evenly responds, "What about a sleeping curse?"

"This isn't the time for jokes," Ben stresses.

"I'm not joking."

He shakes his head, "No. I don't think this was magic."

"Did she take anything?"

"Take anything?" Ben unsurely questions.

"Drugs," Evie elaborates.

"No," Ben breathes, before he shuts his eyes. "Uh. She drank. She had a glass of wine."

Evie's quiet for a moment, "And to think she was just about a month sober."

"Look. If you can't help," he begins.

"Ben." Evie reassures, "Mal's going to be okay."

"How?" he questions. "How do you know that?"

"Look," Evie explains, "Mal has a very good immune system. If something she ate made her sick somehow, she can handle it. And if it's psychological, that will pass too. Just let her rest. She can tell you what to do when she wakes up."

"And if she doesn't?" he worries.

"Then we might want to revisit that magic question." Ben doesn't speak. "Let me know how it goes. Okay?"

Ben slightly nods, "Yeah. Okay."

When he ends the call his mother questions, "What did she say?"

He sighs, "To let her rest." before he looks up at her. "And then ask her how we can help when she wakes up."

His mother nods, and then Audrey comments, "She can rest in a guestroom for the night."

"You sure?" he questions. "I mean, I wouldn't want to put you out like that."

"It's fine," she smiles. "You shouldn't be driving out of the kingdom while she's like this." She thinks, "Just spend the night and you can leave tomorrow afternoon."

"Afternoon?" Ben questions.

"Well, yeah. We'll want to be seeing you head off, and I know six in the morning probably wouldn't work for you."

His frown deepens, "Church. Right." before he tries to smile at her. "Thank you."

* * *

"Mal?" She makes a noise. "Hey," Ben softly speaks. "How are you feeling?"

"You mean since you asked me five minutes ago?" she irritably comments.

He frowns, "It's been two hours." and then she opens her eyes. "I was wondering if you would like to have some leftover dinner before everyone goes to sleep for the night."

She cringes, "No." as she tightly wraps an arm over her stomach. "I feel like I'm going to be sick."

He looks around the room, "Here." before he goes to grab the medium sized garbage can from near the white desk. "Anything else I can get you? Maybe something to drink?"

"Maybe some milk," Mal suggests, "but I don't know if I'll actually be able to drink it right now."

"I'll get it for you anyway."

"Thanks," Mal whispers, but as she watches him stand and leave the room her eyes flutter shut again.

"Hey." Mal opens her eyes and sees Ben with the glass of milk, before he sets it down onto the bedside table. "It will be right here for you."

"K," Mal says, but before she can shut her eye again she hears the second voice.

"How are you?" Audrey worries, and when Mal looks up she can see her standing next to her father and Ben's mother.

Mal nearly laughs, "It's a party."

"I think she's still really tired," Ben excuses.

"Well, aside from that," Belle looks from her son to Mal, "how are you doing?"

"Worst stomach ache in history," Mal mumbles, and then she places her hand to her head and groans at the headache. "Hell. I haven't felt this horrible since…" She slowly lowers her hand and spots Audrey, "You poisoned me."

"Me poison you?" Audrey doubts.

Ben glances at Audrey before turning back towards her, "Mal. Just because you're not feeling well—"

"It's cyanide poisoning," Mal stares at Audrey. "Uma used it on me after I left her gang. This feels the same."

When Ben looks over at Audrey she seems to be on the verge of tears, "I swear, I didn't do this."

"We believe you," her father reassures with a touch on the shoulder.

Belle looks at Mal with concern, "Deliberate cyanide poisoning kills people instantly."

"Yeah." Mal slowly responds with a frown, "I know. I'm lucky." and then she sighs. "I'm always just so very lucky."

There's a moment of silence, before Ben turns to Audrey, "If she really was poisoned, then it had to have been in something she ate or drank."

"We all had the same thing," Audrey frowns.

"But not the same dishes," Ben's mother responds.

Audrey's father turns towards her, "You think someone put it in her dish?"

"Someone who had access to the meal before we did," she insinuates.

"The server," he realizes.

Audrey pauses, "I'll go talk to him."

Her father follows, "I'm coming with." before they leave the room.

Ben looks back at Mal, before he kneels down and takes her hand, "Will you be okay?"

"It's just a little poisoning," Mal attempts to smile. "I'll be just fine."

He nods, "Okay, then." before he kisses her hand. "I'll see you in the morning." Mal watches as he turns to leave, his mother taking a moment to observe her before following him out into the hallway.

After they close the door Ben notices his mother's worry, "She said she would be okay."

"Yes." She stares at the door for a second, before she looks at him and pauses, "Ben. I think we need to discuss what happened earlier."

He nearly smiles, "You mean other than Mal getting poisoned?"

"You know what I'm talking about," she begins, but when it becomes clear he doesn't she explains, "Even if Audrey pressured Mal to drink, it's not her fault that Mal did it."

"It's not Mal's either," Ben begins, but his mother fails to respond. "She has an addiction. That's not something someone can just control."

"I'm not getting into this right now," his mother continues on, before she looks at him again and sighs. "My point is that just because your father says these kinds of things, it doesn't mean you need to too."

Ben's eyes shift, his mouth slightly agape as he remembers just what he had exactly said, "I didn't realize."

"Well, now you do," she points out.

Ben pauses before shaking his head, "I wouldn't ever want to blame others for my own actions or to, uh…" He wets his lips, "To make people feel bad about themselves."

She partly smiles and places a hand on his shoulder, "I'm glad to hear that." before she leans in to kiss him on the forehead.

"I know it's important to acknowledge and accept it when it happens."

"And to apologize," his mother expresses concern, "if you really are sorry."

"I am," he reassures.

His mother nods, "Okay, then. You should apologize."

"Apologize for what?" Audrey questions as she walks towards them.

Ben's mother comments, "I shouldn't keep your father waiting." before she walks off, leaving Ben and Audrey alone.

"Uh," Ben wets his lips. "Look, Audrey. What happened before at dinner…" He sees her tentative, cautious expression, and then he squeezes his hands together, glancing down for a moment, "Mal is still going to be an alcoholic whether she drinks or not, and assuming that we continue to be together she will continue to find herself in these kinds of situations." He nods, "It was wrong of me to blame you. It's not your fault."

"Maybe not her drinking," Audrey accepts, "but the poisoning was."

"What?" Ben quietly asks with furrowed brows.

She takes a deep breath before explaining, "The server claims he poisoned her for me." and then her eyes shift. "He says that he just didn't want me to get hurt again, maybe even worse this time."

"Mal never really intended to hurt you in the first place," Ben softly responds.

There's a pause, before Audrey informs, "I fired him. Murder is a sin. I can't have people killing in my name."

"Fired him?" Ben exasperates. "You should have reported him."

"I would have," Audrey hurriedly explains, before she whispers, "I just figured that maybe Mal wouldn't want to deal with the court and police again so soon."

Ben sees her offer him a piece of paper, and then he takes it, "What is this?"

"It's his information," she frowns. "If you want to press charges, you can."

Ben's quiet for a moment, before he meets her eyes, "Thank you."

She attempts to smile, "Your welcome."

He sees her turn around to walk away, "Audrey." and then she stops in her tracks; however, she doesn't turn around. "I really am sorry. I was just frustrated. I didn't mean it."

She looks over her shoulder with sad, brown eyes, "I'm already insecure enough the way it is, Ben. I really didn't need to see this side of you tonight." She continues to look at him, but he has no words to defend himself. "I hope you have a nice night." Ben looks back up from the floor, watching as she walks away.

"May God be with you," he remembers her say, before he slightly shakes his head and turns to find his own guestroom for the night.

* * *

\- I feel like Audrey is a real mess in these two chapters, but you can let me know what you think.


	112. Better of You

**Better of You**

 **(Day 78: Sunday Morning)**

There's a knock at the door, and Mal looks up just as Belle lets herself in. She looks back down, peeling the dead skin from her arm into the trash, "I thought the purpose of knocking was to let the other person say you can enter."

"I wasn't sure if you would be up yet," she answers, "but I still wanted to give fair warning."

"Consider me warned," Mal irritably replies, before she spots the pillow and swipes it a few times to get the skin pieces off. She puts the pillow back and notices Belle come closer in concern and interest, "Molting. The poison gets pushed to my outer layer of skin, and then I get to enjoy the lovely task of peeling it off." She places the next strip into the garbage can, "Kind of like snake skin, except not so nice and dry. It's more sticky. Like sunburn." She shrugs, "Or so Jay tells me. I've never actually gotten sunburned before."

"I would think a snake skin would be sticky at first too," Belle unsurely comments. "The dryness is probably just from the time since the snake had shed it."

"Whatever," Mal responds with disinterest, before she sighs. "Do you think Audrey would mind if I took a shower?"

"No. I'm sure she wouldn't."

"Great," Mal responds in irritation. "Now, if only I had brought clothes."

"Would you like me to see if Audrey has something she won't miss?"

"That would be nice," Mal nonchalantly answers.

"Okay." Belle pauses, "I will go ask her."

Mal looks up as Belle leaves, before she scratches at her scalp and rolls her eyes as several purple strands stick to her nails, clumps of dead skin stuck onto them. She uses her other hand to pull them off and then watches as they fall into the trash. "Well," she mumbles, "at least you're lucky. It's not like you have to lose all of your hair."

Belle comes in again with a pile of clothes in hand, "Did you say something?"

"No," Mal shakes her head. "Just reminding myself how lucky I am." Belle doesn't speak, so she eyes the pile of colorful fabrics. "Those mine?"

"Actually, yes," Belle raises her eyebrows. "Audrey says you can keep them." Mal stands from the bed, before she walks up to her and unfolds the brown and green knitted sweater, "Huh. I wonder why."

"It's the thought that counts," Belle reminds her.

"And she thought she could pawn her old Christmas shirt on me and tell her family it's charity," Mal insightfully says, before she smiles at Belle. "Thank you."

"No problem," Belle smiles back. "Do you need me to show you where the bathroom is?"

"Out in the hall, I'm guessing?" Belle doesn't speak. "Yeah. You can show me."

* * *

"Hey," Ben smiles, but then he sees the sweater and immediately frowns.

"I know." Mal seethes, "It's really bad, isn't it?"

"Well, uh," he uncomfortably smiles, "green doesn't exactly complement your hair." She grumbles, and he hurriedly reassures, "But it could be worse."

"It can always be worse," Mal irritably responds. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"No," Ben frowns. "I suppose it wouldn't."

"Hey," Audrey chimes in as she nears them with a grin. "How's it going?"

Mal gives her a look, "I thought you were at church."

"We leave at noon." She hurriedly explains, "It starts at eight and the sermon is only two hours, so really we could leave before then, but we like to stay until noon." She glances at her silver watch, "And it is currently one."

Ben frowns as he sees Mal's confusion, "She would like to invite us to lunch before we head back to Auradon."

"Oh." Mal uncomfortably smiles, "I knew that."

"Are you feeling up to it?" Audrey worries.

"I think I'll be able to eat something without puking it up, yeah," Mal evenly answers.

"Good," Audrey smiles, before she grabs Mal's arm. "You can sit next to me."

"Wasn't I already sitting next to you? Or, well, across from you?" Mal manages as she stumbles after Audrey's fast pacing steps.

"And now we get to be even closer," she enthuses, and when Mal looks over her shoulder she sees Ben's cautious expression.

"Hold on," Mal pulls back on her, and she spins around to face her. Audrey frowns, and Mal widens her eyes, "What's this about?"

She tenses a smile, "I just thought we could try to get along more." before she glances down. "You know, I just feel like I never really gave you a chance."

Mal frowns, "My eyes didn't glow, did they?" and then Audrey frowns again. "Great. I'm still broken. Keep it up like this and I just might lose my hypnotism for good next time."

"Don't worry," Audrey tries to reassure. "I'm sure you will get it back eventually."

She shakes her head, "Audrey. What's going on?" before she notices her frown again as her eyes shift to Ben.

When they look at Ben his posture stiffens, "Anything you would like to say to my girlfriend you can say to me."

Audrey half laughs, "You know, it's probably not even worth mentioning."

"What's not worth mentioning," Mal prods.

"And we shouldn't keep our parents waiting," she continues on.

Ben sighs, "She's right. We shouldn't." before he walks past them and Audrey turns around again; however, Mal grabs her arm to stop her.

"What's going on here?" she insists.

"Later," Audrey urgently whispers, before she turns around again and Mal follows her out to the dining room.

"It's mostly leftovers," Aurora states as the three of them take their seats, Mal sitting between Audrey and her father. "But the potato salad and sandwiches are new."

Belle smiles, "I'm sure it will be lovely all the same."

"Grace," Audrey announces with excitement, before she offers her hand to Mal.

Mal glances at it, "You do this at every meal?"

"Yeah," she laughs.

"Seems a little overkill," Mal opinionates, but Audrey doesn't flinch. She lets out a breath, rolling her eyes, "Fine."

"Yay," Audrey grins, before she offers her other hand to Ben.

He darts his eyes between the hand and her, "I think I'll pass."

Mal gives him a look, "What happened to it's their castle and we should do it?"

"It's just lunch," he excuses before tilting his head. "Come on. Like all Catholics pray before lunch."

Audrey immediately interrupts the would-be tense silence, "It's alright. It's his choice."

"Does that mean I have a choice?" Mal questions.

"Come on," Audrey giggles. "Just one more time."

Mal sighs, "Okay." as she tenses her own smile.

Audrey closes her eyes, "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." and then Mal shuts her eyes as well. "Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil." Her voice becomes more passionate and emotional, "Oh, my God, I place my trust and confidence in You, who will reward the good and punish the wicked. I believe in You and accept everything You have taught and revealed. I believe that in one God there are three Divine Persons: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. I believe that God the Son became Man without ceasing to be God. He is Jesus Christ, my lord and my Savior, the Redeemer of the human race. He died on the Cross for my salvation and eternal happiness." Mal feels Audrey's hand tighten onto hers. "Oh, my God, give me a strong faith. Help me to believe with lively faith. Oh, my God, all-good and all-merciful, I sincerely hope to be saved. Help me to do all that is necessary to gain eternal salvation. I have committed many sins in my life, but now I turn away from them." Mal opens her eyes and notices Audrey's deep frown. "I am sorry, truly sorry for all of them, because I have offended You, my God, Who are all-good, all-perfect, all-holy, and all-merciful. I love you— oh, my God— with all my heart. Please forgive me for havin' offended You. I promise that, with Your help, I will never offend You again." Mal looks at Ben, but he only shrugs a shoulder in response. "My God, have mercy on me. For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and for ever. Amen."

"Amen," Mal unsurely repeats, before she sees Audrey open her eyes and smile again.

"Very nice," Audrey's father notes, "although I probably would have added a wellness prayer with everything that's happened."

Aurora looks over at Mal, "How are you doing today?"

"Well, I have a headache and I'm still tired," Mal timidly replies, "but I'll be fine."

She nods, "I'm glad to hear that."

Ben inquires, "Did you decide whether you wanted to press charges or not?"

"Yeah," Mal frowns.

"And?" he prompts.

She looks at him, "I survived. Let's move on."

He hesitates, "You're sure about that?"

"The police probably wouldn't believe me anyway," Mal glances down. "I'm just the fairy dragon hybrid who is the daughter of what they thought was a magic using cannibal." She forks through the smashed potatoes, "And if I were to die, they would never have to worry about that kind of thing ever again. Because, I am the last of my kind, and that guy was just doing humanity the generous favor of ridding the world of my inherent evil." She sets the fork down and places her hand to her head.

After a second of silence Audrey reassures, "I'm sure the police wouldn't think that."

Mal mumbles, "You have too much faith."

"No, actually," Audrey sternly counters. "I think you just don't have enough."

Mal furrows her eyebrows and whispers, "What?"

"Think about it," Audrey instructs. "After everything you've been through, and you're still alive. Okay? You survived the island prison, you survived your mother's uprising when you nobly fought against her, and now you're saying you've survived being poisoned time and time again?"

She slightly shakes her head, "So?"

"So," Audrey emphasizes, "don't you see? You survived great peril. You're alive." Mal laughs through a breath. "I'm serious. You're here, because God wants you here. You're worth something. He has plans for you."

Mal grins in stress, "You think God has plans for me?"

"Well," Audrey hesitates, "yeah."

"What about me being here?" Mal asserts. "Do you think it was God's plan for me to be here?" She intensely looks into her eyes, "Tell me. Was it His fault that I hurt you, that we needed a truce in the first place for me to even be here?"

Audrey frowns, "God works in mysterious ways." and then Mal lets out a loud breath. "If what you tried to do to me lead us here so that we could talk and I could help you, then I feel like that sacrifice may have been worth it."

Mal looks over the table, "Where'd that wine go?"

"Mal," Ben begins.

"No," she interrupts, before she turns back to Audrey. "You are right about something. My life has been hell, but you know what? This God you believe in, I can't believe that divine, all-merciful person could exist and let me suffer from the time I was born." She half laughs, "Because, why? What, just because I'm a hybrid— some demon from your book— I had to be punished? And if so, what makes me so special, huh? Why am I still alive?"

Audrey sees the tears in Mal's eyes, and she lets out a sad breath, "Maybe… Maybe you're meant to help people." She takes her hand, "Maybe you're here, because if I help you, then that means you can help others."

Mal takes her hand away from hers, "And what makes you think I need help?"

"You're powerful enough to help people," Audrey bypasses. "You really should."

She huffs, "You're kidding, right? I can't even help myself." as she runs her nails through her tangled, curly hair. "I can't focus on pointless school work. I can't find meaning in anything. Hell, I can't even make my own body heat." Her mouth gapes and her eyes widen, before she meets Ben's, "It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet, has it?"

"Merde," Ben remembers, before he turns to his mother. "Mom. The thermometer."

"Right," Belle recalls, before she takes it out of her small purse and hands it to Mal.

"What's going on?" Audrey asks, as she watches Mal press the button and place the thermometer into her mouth.

"Don't you remember the court's conditions?" Ben stressfully counters. Audrey stays silent, merely looking at him, and then he wets his lips, "She's required to take her temperature twice a day or she'll get put in prison."

Audrey makes a noise, "But if she just missed one—"

"Then that means she isn't trying," Ben frustrates. "It means she won't be able to recognize when she needs heat, and then she'll hurt someone else." He sighs, "Or, at least, that's what they will assume."

The thermometer beeps and Mal reads the number, "Ninety-six point four." before she hands the thermometer back to Belle. "I'll write it in the notebook when we get back."

"Ninety-six degrees?" Aurora worries. "Isn't that low?"

"It's been lower," Mal frowns.

"But it can be higher," Ben frowns in return. "It should be higher."

Mal furrows her brows at him, "Well, I'm sorry. I was a little busy getting poisoned, and I didn't exactly see you offering yourself up to me."

Ben makes a noise, "All you have to do is ask. You know that."

Mal silences, and it's tensely quiet for a moment before Belle reasons, "We can solve this later. How about we just finish lunch?" She attempts to smile at Audrey's family, "And then we can get out of your hair."

"Sounds like a great idea," Leah agrees, before everyone uncomfortably continues the meal."

* * *

"Oh, Mal," Audrey calls after her, as Ben's family begins to exit out to the car. She hugs her, "I'm so glad I caught you in time." but Mal keeps her arms up.

She fights the urge to defend herself, "What's this about?"

Audrey lets go of her, "It's later."

When Mal glances back at Ben, Audrey smiles in reassurance, "Can I steal her for a minute? I need her help for something."

Ben gives an unsure look, "I suppose you can."

"Goodie," Audrey grins, before she pulls Mal across the foyer, down the hall, and into a private room. "How are you?"

"Feeling a little weirded out right now," Mal intensely expresses to her.

Audrey swipes some hair behind an ear, "Okay. Look." and she's quiet for a moment. "I just… I need to know that you're okay, before I let you leave."

"Before you let me leave?"

"Yes." She hesitates, "You see… I love Ben. I do, but there's these things about him— and I know it could have been my fault. I'm a very proactive person, and our personalities could have just clashed. I know that, but... there were just these things— and I just really need to know that you know and that it hasn't happened, that you're okay."

Mal's mouth gapes, "Audrey. What's going on here?"

She laughs through a tense grin, "You know, it's just that… I know he would never want to hurt anyone in any way." Mal gives a cautious look. "But, there were just these times when— when he would ignore me or be all passive aggressively defensive— I could tell something was wrong, you know, but he just wouldn't let me in, and…" She breathes, "It just, uh, left me feeling a little devalued, I guess, you know?"

Mal slowly shakes her head, "No. I don't." as she can see the glossiness in Audrey's dark eyes. "But I don't really, uh, pressure Ben to talk about his life or feelings or anything, so…"

"But you do know there is something, don't you? Something that he's been hiding?"

Mal pauses to think, "Everyone has something to hide." before she addresses the other things. "And, yeah, Ben can get busy. I'm not always on his mind, but most of the time he just really wants to talk about me. He likes to talk about me and help me. He's not really the kind of person who likes to talk about their own drama."

"And, what? You're not curious?" Audrey wonders, but Mal stays silent. "Can't you sense that he's keeping his guard up, pushing you away?"

"I have guards too," Mal easily states, before she takes a step forward. "And Audrey, you need to know that the reason why I haven't pressured Ben to talk about himself is because on the Isle we learn not to talk about ourselves. We learn not to ask other people about their lives."

She slightly shakes her head, "Why?"

Mal partly smiles, "Because it makes things worse. Because you just really don't want to know what's actually happening." Mal glances down, "It's his life. He knows how to handle it. I don't, and there's no point in me knowing about it if I can't do anything about it." She looks off, "And, you know, if he wants to talk about it, then he will." before she shakes her head. "But I'm not going to force him to talk about something that he doesn't want to talk about."

"I'm telling you something has been wrong with him," Audrey urges. "Don't you want to know what it is so that you can help him?" Mal opens her mouth to speak, but Audrey doesn't let her, "He likes you. You make him happy. You can get him to tell you. I know you can."

"Audrey," Mal shuts her eyes in frustration.

"You can get the information I never could. He responds to you."

"Audrey," she shouts, and then she sees Audrey become still with shock. "Ben's king. He's a—" She lets the breath out. "I'm sure he has a lot of problems, but just think about it. Think about the most stressful, time-filling thing you can imagine." Mal pauses, "Ben is a busy person, probably more busy than anyone knows. Do you really want me to bother him about his life and his problems the minute he's able to get away from them?"

"I just want to help him," Audrey whispers as tears fill her eyes.

Mal hesitates, "He'll ask for help if he really needs it." before she moves past Audrey.

"Did you ever ask for help?" she counters.

Mal halts, her hand on the doorknob, "Yes." as images of her talk with Uma flash through her mind. "No one cared enough to bother."

* * *

When Mal steps into the car Ben's parents glance at her as he questions, "What did Audrey want?"

Mal takes a seat across from Ben, "She wanted to know if I was okay."

"Because of the poison," he assumes.

"No." Mal stares into his hazel eyes, and then his frown deepens with concern.

"Mal?" His voice had been sad, panged; however, she still doesn't speak. He uncomfortably laughs, "Look" before he wets his lips. "Whatever she said—"

"It isn't true?" Mal finishes, and then Ben frowns again. "I get that some things are private, that some things just can't be talked about, but…" Mal shakes her head, "Ben. She was practically crying. What did you do to her?"

Ben makes a noise, failing to speak, before his mother prompts, "Honey?"

Ben squeezes his hands together, "Well, ah." before he purses his lips. "What did she tell you, exactly?"

Mal tilts her head, "She said you could get passive aggressively defensive." before she slightly nods. "That there were times when you completely ignored her." Ben's eyes move away, his mouth cracked open as he runs his tongue over his sharp molars, before he turns his head towards the window and observes the castle. "Ben," Mal irritably responds, and then he looks back at her and sighs. "I get that Audrey is a fragile girl who's biggest problem is probably figuring out what to wear in the morning, but even she has to have a reason to cry."

He eyes the floor, before he takes in a deep breath, looks back up, and admits, "I did have a tendency of getting defensive with Audrey." He glances down, wetting his lips, before he faces Mal again, "And, uh, one of my more common defenses was…" His eyes shift as he takes a shaky breath, "It was to say that because she believes in God, that causes her to be stupid and make up problems that don't exist."

"Ben," his mother exasperates.

"I know." He doesn't dare look at her, "Audrey's faith is very important to her—"

"So, you used it against her?" Mal disbelieves. "What happened to being respectful of people's religions and not being blatant about your beliefs?"

When Ben doesn't speak his mother instructs, "You need to go back in and apologize."

Ben sighs, shaking his head, "Honestly, Mother." before he meets her warm brown eyes, now filled with sorrow. "I don't think she would really want me to."

She shuts her eyes for a moment, "I thought I raised you better than this."

"Like Father has never done anything like this before," Ben frustrates in French. "You forgave him. You never complained to him."

His mother gives him a look, "That's uncalled for."

"What?" Mal darts her eyes between the two of them. "What did he say?"

She sighs and continues in French, "I knew the kind of problems I would have to help your father through when I married him. We expected better of you." Ben doesn't speak, so she switches to English, "Honestly. I thought I taught you to respect women."

"You did," he quickly reassures.

"Then what happened?" she loudly questions.

"I don't know," Ben shouts, and he feels his eyes become moist as he lets out a long breath. "It was just hard, okay? It got too hard."

"Yes, well," his mother's eyes shift, "things get hard sometimes, don't they?" Ben opens his mouth to speak, but then she presses the com button. "Travis. We can leave now."

Ben watches as she picks up her novel and opens it, "Mother." but she just stares into it. He looks at her for a moment: how her eyelids hide her irises as she tentatively reads and how her manicured nails turn the page; however, when he catches her sweet scent he turns away from her and stares out the window. He feels his eyes fill with tears as he notices his reflection in the tinted glass, and he can still smell her. He can't ignore it, each intake of breath more shaky than the one before. He's betrayed her, and she may never forgive him.

"I just need to know," Mal hesitates, "that you won't get defensive like that with me. If you don't want to talk about something, just say so." She sees the tear fall down his face, "You don't need to push me away… and… if you ever feel like talking, you can."

"Thank you," Ben manages, and when he wipes the tear away he feels just how hot his face has become. He pats the tic-tac case in his pocket; however, he knows he can't take the medicine right now, not with his girlfriend sitting just across from him to see.

"So?" Mal softly asks.

"So?" Ben repeats.

She pauses, "You won't do it to me."

Ben's quiet for a moment, as he tries to get a grip of himself, so afraid that if he says more than just a few words that his voice will crackle and his mother will hear. He tries to steady his breathing, "If it happens, let me know and we can figure it out." He stares at his reflection, "But I would hope I've learned my lesson." He breathes deeply, taking in the calming scent, before he leans his head against the cool glass, shuts his eyes, and drifts asleep.

* * *

\- Any opinions or questions? These were two long chapters. I would really like to read some comments on them. Theories are good too, if you have any.

-Next Up: Mal's therapy session and Carlos gets tested. There may or may not be a family dinner at Ben's beforehand, as it is Sunday... with the drama that happened in this chapter it's likely.


	113. Unforgivable Acts

**Unforgivable Acts**

 **(Day 78: Sunday Evening)**

"I have informed Mrs. Potts that meals should be prepared without alcohol from now on," Belle tells them.

When Mal fails to speak Ben nods, "Thank you."

"You could have told us," she comments before she sips from her glass. "Could have saved us a lot of strife."

Ben finds himself unable to counter with the fact that everyone has things they're ashamed of, instead looking at Mal. She eyes the plate, "I wasn't trying to deceive anyone."

"I'm sure they know that," Ben turns back to his own plate and pokes a fork into the turkey. "They just expect better from the king of the country."

"Don't get sarcastic with us," his father sternly responds.

"Adam," his mother addresses, "it wasn't that sarcastic."

"More like he still hates himself for what happened with Audrey," Mal inputs.

"It doesn't matter how regretful he is," Adam bares his teeth. "That's no way for a man to behave."

Ben looks up and notices it: the furrowed brows, pinpointed eyes, and the tense jaw; however, he still can't help but tiredly retort, "Don't you think I know that?"

His mother takes his father's hand, "Adam." and she pauses to give him time to acknowledge her. "It's been a stressful day. How about you get us all some tea?" He grumbles, and then Ben watches as she places her other hand on his father's shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Please."

He lets out a defeating breath, "Okay." before he stands from the table and heads through the archway to the kitchen.

"You think tea will make it better?" Ben doubts.

She doesn't look at him, "Tea makes everything better."

Ben doesn't move his eyes from her, and the longer he stares without her reciprocation, the more he can feel it; he feels his heart quicken without reason, his breathing short in and long out, until he tears his eyes from her and shuts them. There's a tingling sensation in his fingers, as he feels it begin to shake with stress, "Do we have any soda?"

"I don't know," his mother still doesn't look at him. "Do we?" He feels the sensation spread, so he stands to his feet. "Wait," she urges.

Ben turns back around and sees her finally look at him, before he helplessly questions, "What?" He slightly raises his arms from his sides, "What is it?"

"Your father is getting us tea," she reasons. "You should wait."

"Because tea fixes everything," Ben repeats, and his mother merely frowns at him. "I'm going to go grab a soda, and you're going to continue to ignore me."

When he turns back around she pleads, "Ben!" but he just continues on into the kitchen.

"I can go after him, "Mal suggests."

"No," Belle holds a hand up, before she closes it. "Just wait a minute."

In the kitchen, Ben notices his father hovering over the island counter, blocking the fridge, as he places the kettle on a tray along with four cups, "What kind of tea did you make?"

"The same kind I make every time your mother asks me to make some."

"Chamomile," Ben recalls, and when his father doesn't respond he finds his eyes darting between him and where the soda would undoubtedly be placed, if it did so exist.

His father keeps still, just staring down at the tray, "I guess you came in here to make sure I didn't break anything."

Ben takes a deep breath, before he moves towards the cupboard near the stove, "No." before he finds the ground ginger, paces over to the counter himself, and then places the circular container in front of his father. "I just thought that we could use some of this."

"But no one's sick," he irritably counters.

Ben looks away for a moment, "No, but it's also supposed to help with the physical side effects of anxiety, and I think we're all a little stressed right now. Don't you?"

His father pauses to think, before he eyes Ben's near-shaking hand, "You're afraid."

"Not everything is about you," he shouts, before he takes an unsteady breath, feeling the tears intrude his eyes again. "Just go help yourself." He shuts his eyes, "And the others." before he places a hand to his forehead. "I need a minute."

His father pauses, "Okay." before he places a hand on Ben's shoulder and Ben flinches it off. "I will go have some tea."

Ben hears his father force himself not say what he actually wanted to, and he's grateful, as he hears his father leave the room without hesitation. He takes a few short breathes, before he notices the fridge and rushes to it. He opens it and immediately sees the boxes, pulling out three of the Diet Cokes and placing them on the counter next to the fridge in a triangular fashion. They're cool in temperature, and when he opens the first he doesn't even wait for the popping fizz sound to dissipate before taking a drink. It's crisp, and he releases a breath at the familiar taste before taking another; however, as soon as he knows it, it's gone and he moves onto the next one. He takes a drink and savors it, moving his thumb around the rim, but as his mother hollers for him he's reminded of everything and downs the rest of the can. He lets out a breath, before he opens the third and drinks; however, when he turns to open the fridge again he sees Mal just at the edge of the island, and his mouth cracks open, "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm supposed to get you," she unsurely states, before she notices his eyes shift around the room. "What's going on?"

He cockily smiles, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Mal gives him a look, "If you can't say it, just say you can't talk about it."

He makes a noise, failing to speak, before he glances at the soda, looks away, and then wets his lips before facing Mal again. He slowly admits, "Sometimes when I get upset I like to have a soda." He eyes the ground for a second, "Is that so wrong?"

"No. Of course, not," she looks at him in confusion.

It takes a minute for him to confess, "Doug thinks I drink too much soda."

"Well, how much do you have?" Ben lifts a shoulder, and then Mal raises an eyebrow. "Okay, then. How much are you having now?"

Ben's mouth gapes, "Ahh." as his eyes shift to where the other can are. "A couple."

"A couple?" Mal doubts. "Not two, not one or four. Just a couple?" Ben doesn't speak. "If only I could count on one hand how many times I only had a couple drinks."

"This is different," Ben loudly defends.

"Yeah. It is," Mal grins. "So, why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, "I don't know. It's just… well, embarrassing." before he meets her jade green eyes again. "I, uh-em, actually get a lot of it online, just so I don't have to have people watch me purchase it from stores all the time."

Mal furrows her brows, "If you don't like how much soda you're having, then cut down. Clear and simple."

"You're right." Ben eyes away for a moment, "I should stop embarrassing myself."

"That's not what I said," Mal asserts, but he fails to respond. "God. You have a terrible self-esteem for a king." She walks past him, "How does that even happen?" before she finds the other cans and holds them up for him to see. "Two. That's not that bad, Ben."

Ben eyes the can in his hand but doesn't mention it, "You're right."

"Right," Mal smiles. "So, now that we've established that…" She tugs on his tie and pulls him in for a kiss. He kisses her back, but it's only a moment later that she hears him gasp with shock.

"Mother."

Mal moves back in question, before she sees his widened eyes and follow them to the doorway. Belle evenly comments, "Everything fine in here?"

"Yeah," Mal attempts to smile. "We're all good."

She nods, but then she stills at the sight of the cans. Ben steps forward, setting the can in his hands next to the others, before he gestures, "I can explain."

"You're stressed," she frowns. "That's why I told you to wait for the tea."

He wets his lips, eyes shifting down for a second, before he attempts to explain, "Mom."

She interrupts, "Your father is on his third cup. You should come join us."

"We'll be right there," he accepts.

She nods once again before exiting through the arch, and then Ben lets out a stressed breath. Mal watches him grab the soda, "She's a very… practical person, isn't she?"

"If by practical," Ben feels the can empty, "you mean serious and literal, then yes." He sets the can down again and stares at the silver marble counter, "With me she's usually more… she's always thoughtful, full of intelligence, but… Well, maybe I'm wrong." He folds his arms and leans onto the counter, before he looks over at Mal. "I thought that she's usually able to put her objectiveness aside when it comes to me." He glances down for a second, "But now she's so distant… And no. It's been this way." Ben faces Mal, "She can just be too understanding sometimes, like whatever a person feels doesn't matter, because she's thinking about how it affects everybody." He shakes his head, as he remembers Audrey, "I really didn't need another reason for her to hate me."

"Another reason?" Mal furrows her brows in question.

He shakes his head again, "The soda. She doesn't like it." before he looks at her again. "She grew up on a farm, you know, and this stuff is made in a laboratory… It's… well… She assumes it can't be good for you." He slightly nods, his eyes shifting down, "She's likely right."

Mal uncomfortably moves, "We should get back to dinner."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "I'll be right there." and after he watches her leave, he slowly picks up the three cans, crunching each one as he finds the recycling and then drops them in. He moves past the fridge on his way out of the room; however, before he makes it to the archway he halts, glancing back at the refrigerator, before he continues on, but then he stops again. He lets out a long breath, looks between the fridge and doorway, before he finds himself walking back over to the fridge. He looks over his shoulder before grabbing the same type of can he had before, opening it before he heads back into the dining room.

When he sits back down his father comments, "You know, it's not good enough just to apologize to a woman. You need to show her you're sorry too."

"You mean like offering her theater tickets?" Ben tiredly questions.

His father hesitates, "For instance. Or, you could write a poem." and then he gestures with thought. "You could perform a piano piece."

"I always thought that was manipulative," Ben takes a sip of his soda, "giving someone a gift to make them forget about something horrible you've done."

"Ben," his mother sternly responds.

"A person," Ben shuts his eyes hard. "You, as in a person." He shakes his head and then mutters in French, "Why does everyone have to take everything so God damn personally?" He rubs his forehead before going for his Diet Coke again.

"Hold on," his mother instructs, before she nods down. "I want you to drink the tea first." Ben finds the cup closest to him and then pours the contents into his mouth, gulping it down, before he takes a drink of the soda. "I have to use the restroom," she excuses herself, and Ben watches as she makes her way around the table and towards the hallway.

It's quiet as the rest of them continue to eat, Ben glancing down at his watch every so often, before Mal attempts to break the silence, "So. Uh."

"I'll be back," Ben intrudes, before he drops his fork and stands from his seat.

"Where are you going?" Mal questions; however, Ben simply stays silent as he turns to leave the room, and he walks down the hallway until he reaches the plaque marked restroom. He enters it and sees his mother washing her hands over the sink, before she looks into the long mirror and their eyes meet. "You've never hated me before."

"I still don't," she quietly responds before drying her hands on the blue towel.

"It feels like you do," Ben softly replies, and he can feel his eyes become warm.

She faces him, "I don't hate you. I'm just disappointed."

It takes a second for Ben to say, "That doesn't make me feel any better." before he takes a step forward. "I apologized. What more do I have to do to make it up to you?"

His mother's mouth opens before she evenly responds, "I'm not the one you should be making it up to."

"I can't have you be upset with me," Ben desperately says as he steps forward.

"You know," she raises her eyebrows in sternness, "there are plenty of people who are upset with me too. There are things the people have yet to forgive me for, for which I haven't even done. It's something you have to learn to live with."

Ben gulps, as he feels his eyes well with tears, "I'm not the people, Mom." and then he notices her expression soften. "I just really need to know that we're okay, that things between us are good." She doesn't speak, "Can't you ever forgive me?"

"Let me ask you something," she blankly looks at him. "How many times, exactly, did you apologize to Audrey for the same things?" He wets his lips. "How many times did you do the same kind of things over and over again after promising you wouldn't?" He sighs, shutting his eyes as the tears finally fall, and it takes a minute for her to answer, "What you did, I'm not sure if it can be forgiven. You really hurt her, Ben."

"It's not like I ever hit her," he faces her.

"And that makes it okay?" she skeptically inquires.

"No. Of course, not," he makes a noise and then pauses. "All I'm saying is… I never threw a piano at her."

His mother's eyes shift, "We're finished here."

Ben panics as she walks past him, "No. Wait." and then he grabs onto her shoulder.

She flips back around with widened eyes, "Stop it!" and then he lets go. She takes a calming breath, "This behavior, Ben, it's childish. You've always been so mature for your age. What's gotten into you?"

It takes him a moment to say, "You." before he lets out a sad breath. "I love you. I can't stand you being so," he glances down for a second, "distant from me."

She lets out a breath of disbelief before continuing on, "And your father. You've held this grudge against him for something that happened how many years ago? Eight?"

"Nine," Ben corrects. "I was seven. He could've killed me."

"He missed you on purpose," she tells him.

"What?" Ben half laughs. "Did he tell you that? Because, I never asked."

There's a long pause, before his mother questions, "Has your father ever hurt you?"

Ben thinks of how his father had grasped his shirt the week prior to pull him forward and yell in his face. He lets out a hopeless breath, "He's never hit me." and then his eyes shift. "He's never laid a hand on me."

"Well, then," his mother evenly responds, "I suggest that you drop this childish pettiness of yours and forgive him for that mistake he made so many years ago." He doesn't speak. "He's better now. He's been doing better now."

Ben faces her again, "He still gets unwell."

"And you're still going to get stressed," she counters.

He's quiet for a moment, and then his voice cracks, "I'm never going to get your forgiveness, am I?" and then more tears fall down his face. "You're going to be upset with me for a long time."

"I can't just outright forgive you," she slowly responds. "I can't just let you think this behavior is okay. If you've told Audrey that she's stupid and crazy so many times, then it doesn't matter if she knows it's true or not, or how many times you've apologized or reassured otherwise." She pauses, "She's still going to question it, so no. I can't forgive you; however, as with most things, it should dissipate with time. So long as you make the right choices from this moment forward."

Ben nods, taking a shaky breath, and when he watches his mother open the bathroom door he says it again, "I love you."

She frowns back at him for a moment, "I love you too." and as she exits the room, Ben slides down the sink counters and sits on the floor.

Sometime after, Ben looks towards the door, as he hears it open, and he tiredly watches Mal walk over and kneel beside him. "Hey."

"Hey," he quietly says, but he can't move. He's too tired to move, and he feels his eyes continue to droop.

"You should come back to the dining room," she prompts.

"I can't," Ben mumbles, before he leans onto her arm, and as she swipes the hair from his face, she feels it.

"You're burning up." Mal places her hand onto his forehead, "Were you this hot earlier?" He makes a noise and attempts to lift a shoulder, but the shoulder doesn't lift. "Are you okay?"

Ben hears her worry and then whispers, "I haven't been feeling very well. Today."

"What can I do?"

"Water. Fridge," he manages.

"Okay," she says, before she stands back up. "I'll be right back." Ben doesn't respond, merely watching her leave the bathroom, before he stares at his pants' pocket. He grumbles before reaching for it, weakly taking the case out, pouring the remaining four tablets into his hand, and then moving them to his mouth. With that, he lets his arm drop, and at the sight of the clear container he doesn't even bother to hide it back into his pocket. Instead, he moves it a couple inches to keep it from view, and the second he does he's startled by the sound of the door; however, beyond looking to see Mal come back in, he doesn't react. "Here."

When she walks over to hand him the flavored water he takes it and then downs the contents with the pills. He lets out a breath, "Thanks." before he raises his arm towards her. "Help me, please."

She takes her hand and pulls him up, and then she watches as he slouches over the countertop, "I don't get it. Are you sick or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," Ben mumbles, before he tiredly looks at her and notices her inquiring expression. "Yes. I'm sick."

"You were fine this morning," she thinks aloud. "Or, at least, better. How could it have gotten so bad so fast?"

Ben shuts his eyes and lets out a breath, "The dorm."

"The dorm?"

"I want to go back to my dorm," he tiredly clarifies.

Mal hesitates, glancing over at Belle for a moment, "If you're this sick, then maybe you should stay here."

"I want my dorm," he persists, before he looks back at her and lifts a hand, "I have class in the morning."

"You can't attend class if you're sick," she loudly refutes, but then she notices him bring the hand to his head. "Sorry," she whispers.

"I'll be fine in the morning," he intensely looks into her eyes. "I just need to rest."

When Mal looks over at Belle she confirms, "It's been a stressful, emotional day." before her eyes lower in thought and she slightly nods. "This has happened before. He will be okay."

"Okay," Mal nearly smiles in relief, before she looks back at Ben. "Can you walk?"

"Um." He looks at the ground near his feet but finds there's no room to test, "Maybe." and as Mal nods and moves towards the door, he keeps his hand over the counter, afraid that he may lose balance.

When he gets to the doorway his mother places a hand on his shoulder, "Call me if it gets any worse."

At the sight of her and her warm brown eyes, he feels the sinking feeling again. He feels a sinking pit in his stomach, and as he the tears burn his eyes again, he can feel the spinning, sickening sensation in that pit. All he wants to do is wrap his arms around her; however, he doesn't even bother to ask, as he keeps quiet and turns his head away. He sees Mal but keeps his eyes from her as well, glancing over himself and the tiled floor beneath his feet, "Where'd the soda go?"

"It's still on the table," Mal lets him now, and then he takes a step forward onto the dark, wooden floors. "Wait," she puts a hand out. "I'll get it for you." He fully looks back up at her just as she turns away.

"You need to be more careful," his mother reminds him.

"I know," he says without turning towards her.

"The medicine you already take only does so much," she asserts. "If you continue to let your fever get so high, then—"

"I get it," Ben frustrates. "I could die." He leans on the doorframe and slowly shakes his head, "I've heard it a million times, Mother. There's really no need to remind me."

She stays silent, as Mal returns with the soda and then Mal looks between the two of them. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Ben plainly states as he stands to his feet, but he can see her doubt. "Nothing of importance." He places a hand on her shoulder to keep balance, "Let's get going."

* * *

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ben lets her know as he stares out the window. "Just thinking."

"About?" she prompts.

He's quiet for a moment, as he feels his breathing quicken again, "I feel like I'm losing her." He doesn't hear a response. "I know. It sounds crazy."

"I was just wondering who you were talking about," Mal slowly informs.

Ben pauses, "My mother. She's never been like this with me before."

"How?" Mal unsurely questions, but he fails to answer. "Look, Ben. Your mother cares about you. I know she does. Okay? You're not losing her."

"She's so disappointed in me," he unsteadily breathes. "She said I couldn't make up for it, that she couldn't just forgive me for it."

"Ben," Mal starts. "In my experience, unforgivable acts aren't forgiven. They're moved past. They're forgotten with time… and distraction." She pauses, "You're not going to lose her." He stays silent. "And Ben." She moves closer and holds his hand, causing him to glance at it and then face her. "Your parents care about you, and they're supportive." She glances down, "You have great parents who will love you unconditionally, no matter what mistakes you make." before she looks into his eyes. "They will forgive you… eventually."

"Great parents," Ben repeats.

"Well, I mean," Mal half laughs, "your father seems a little, uh… hard on you, but you have an amazing family." She bites her lip, "It's just, um." before she looks back up at him and slightly nods. "I wish my mother could have given me the same kind of love and care that your parents give to you."

Ben hesitates, his eyes moving off for a moment, "My family's not perfect, Mal."

"No one's is," she easily responds, "but at least you have one." Mal's smile widens as her eyes sadly glisten, "You have a hard life too. I get that, but even though your father can be tough on you and your mother seems to be holding back right now, don't take the love and care they are offering for granted." He can see the tears in her eyes. "You have a great family, Ben. You have to know that."

"Yes," Ben's frown deepens, and he can feel his heartrate increase before he confirms, "I know." The car stops and Ben turns towards the door, waiting for it to open, and when it does he steps out and leans on the car.

When Ben offers Mal his hand she rejects it and stands from the vehicle herself, "I don't think you have that much strength right now." before she places her hand on his shoulder. "But nice try."

After they get inside and Mal walks him to his dorm, he stares at her for a moment, the beautiful tints of green in her eyes, before he laughs it off and unsurely smiles, "I do love you. You know that."

He may have said it as a command, but Mal notices the desperate question in his eyes, "Yeah. I do." before she takes his hand and kisses it. "Good night, my king."

At the sight of her smile, he manages one as well, "Night, my lady." and it's only as she moves towards the end of the hallway that their eye contact breaks.

Doug opens the door, "I thought I heard you out here." before his mouth cracks open in observation. "Did you get sunburn or something?"

Ben lets out a tired breath, "Let me in."

Doug complies, shutting the door behind him, before he watches Ben immediately make his way over to his bed and take the blue bin out from under it. "You're sick," he realizes.

"I'm not allowed to have emotions," Ben evenly says, before he takes out a packet of Alka-Seltzer and a new bottle of Tylenol. "Ooh," he slightly smiles, as he finds a plastic container of cookies and sets them on the bedside table as well.

"What's that?"

"They're the ones from Starlit Night." He takes a bite out of one, "I saved some."

"Shouldn't you be more focused on getting better?" Doug reminds him.

Ben nods, "I'm getting to that." before he puts the bin back, sits on his bed, and then eyes around the room. "Where's my water bottle?"

Doug gives him a look of annoyance, before he heads into the bathroom and comes back out with it, "You keep leaving it in there."

"Makes sense," Ben accepts, before he smiles again. "That's where the water lives."

He shakes his head, "I can't take you seriously like this." before he hands him the full bottle. "So, how about you medicate yourself, and then we can talk about whatever's up with you?"

"Or," Ben offers an alternative as he drops the two circles into the plastic bottle, "we can let me not get emotionally sick again and put on a cartoon instead."

"You're joking," Doug disbelieves, but Ben merely takes in the fizziness of his drink. "You don't watch shows. They're too time-consuming. If you watch anything, it's always a movie or the tourney game." He emphasizes, "If you watch anything at all."

"You're forgetting the news," Ben remarks, before he takes a large drink of the medicine.

"Still," Doug irritably replies. "You don't watch shows."

"I do when I'm sick," Ben explains before making himself comfortable. "Kid shows that are funny and make absolutely no sense at all." He sighs, "It's the only thing that doesn't make my headaches worse."

Doug scratches his eye, "Alright." before he fixes his glasses and finds the remote. "What do you want to watch?"

"The one with the… the…" He wets his lips, "What's that one sea creature that's all spongy called again?"

Doug gives him a dumbfounded look, "A sea sponge."

Ben points a finger up and enthuses, "Yes. That one."

He shakes his head as his turns on the television, "You really are sick." before he looks back at him in concern. "What's your temperature?"

"Well, I can move," Ben raises his eyebrows in thought, "so better than it was thirty minutes ago."

"God," Doug breathes as he searches through the shows, "don't let the king die on my watch. Please."

"You believe in God?" Ben inquires.

"I believe," he slowly states, "that we are merely a simulation in a computer program created to satisfy the sadistic thoughts of our all-knowing, all-powerful maker. Yes."

"Hmm," Ben hums. "You'll have to tell me more about that later. It sounds interesting."

"It is," Doug agrees, before he finds the show and hands the remote over to Ben. "After all, all God is mentioned to be is our creator." He jokes, "And if hybrids really aren't God's creation, then that makes you a pesky virus disrupting His program."

"Funny," Ben unenthusiastically responds.

"Come on," Doug prompts. "Doesn't that make you feel better?"

"No," Ben frowns, before he starts the show. "It really doesn't."

* * *

\- So, I don't know if I've ever mentioned GTLive on here before, but I feel the need to mention that MatPat's recent confession was in no way the inspiration for Ben's soda issue. Actually, if you look back at the first chapter I mentioned him drinking the soda and then compare it with GTLive's recent confessions video, then you would know that the chapter came first... but since the chapters themselves don't have posted dates on them you're either going to have to been here long enough to know I'm not lying or you're just going to have to trust me... No, uh, Ben's soda issue is modeled over my own (just more extreme). My drink of choice is actually Diet Dr. Pepper, but because I was testing out Diet Coke at the time (which I find I don't like) and saw that it had more flavors, I figured that would be a good brand for Ben to obsess about... Funny thing, actually. A little while ago there was a contest at the gym, where you had a chance to get money if you went three months without drinking soda. Now, I did that challenge, but I feel like the only reason I got through it was because I knew there was a time when I'd be able to have the Diet again. Seriously, I think it was about every day that I just thought that I can't wait until the competition was finished... And, of course, after the whole thing ended I did start drinking it again, which is kind of odd because they say that after 30 days or 3 months a habit should break (I looked it up and apparently it can take up to 8 months or a year, but still). I actually had this coin that was worth a dollar. It's a collector's item, so you keep it if you find it... I spent it on a 24 pack pack about a week ago, because I didn't have enough money for it. And now I'm just about broke, so there's that. Lovely. I'll be surprised if I don't spend of a good portion of my birthday and Christmas money on it... I should really quit. The last time I went to the doctor my blood pressure and heartrate were both fairly high, higher than usual, but I don't really want to quit it. I think I just want to lose some weight first, see if that helps. Because, if it does, then I don't need to put down the soda. Right? (PS: I don't have any problem with fevers. That's all Ben. Just so no one worries).

-Anyway, thanks for everyone who's commented since last week. It's very appreciated. Feel free to do it some more.


	114. Everything

-Whoops. I completely forgot that Mal wasn't supposed to leave the kingdom of Auradon (as opposed to the country). Don't worry. I fix that in this chapter.

* * *

 **Everything**

 **(Day 79: Monday Afternoon)**

When Mal sits down on the couch she hands the purple flower notebook over the coffee table to the therapist. "No small talk today, I see," she smiles.

Mal watches as she opens it, "Yeah, well, small talk really isn't my thing."

"There's a couple lower temperatures here," the brunette notes, "for last weekend."

"What can I say," Mal continues to frown, "I was sick."

"Sick?" the therapist's soft blue eyes peer through her square glasses.

"Just a little cyanide poisoning," she eyes around the room. "No biggie."

The therapist shuts the notebook and hands it back to Mal, "How did that happen?"

"Audrey," Mal tensely smiles. "You know, she just had to set up this truce dinner, and then one of her devoted servants thought he would do the honor of killing me for her safety."

She nods, "And how does that make you feel?"

"It doesn't make me like humans any more, if that's what you're asking." Mal retorts, before she looks her up and down. "What did the court think they would accomplish my hiring you anyway?"

The therapist shifts her head, "That's interesting." before she observes her for a moment. "You have a distrust for humans, and yet you can't tell the difference between humans and other humanoid animals, can you?"

"I don't need to know the difference just by sight or smell," Mal evenly responds. "Humans give themselves away just by being so self-assured, self-centered, and thinking they know everything."

"That may be," she looks at her intently, "but I think it would be beneficial for you to know that I'm not human, not really. Technically speaking, I'm a witch— which legally speaking falls under the category of human— but most people still see a difference."

Mal straightens up in interest, "So… you can like feel energies and stuff?"

"I can sense auras of people and energies of places, yes," she explains, "but I also have the rarer gift of telepathy."

"Telepathy?" Mal raises an eyebrow.

"People call it mind reading, but it's really just surface thoughts," she clarifies, "and I don't have complete control over it. It's harder to hear someone's thoughts when they're thinking in images or with feeling, and when it does occur it does just sound as though someone is talking to me." She smiles, "It actually got me into a lot of trouble in my youth."

"What kind of trouble?" Mal questions.

The therapist grins, "Another time, maybe. I think it's your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"To share." She explains, "I disclosed my heritage to you, because I feel like it will help you be more honest with me. So, now, I would like you to be more honest."

"Can't you just read my mind?" Mal frowns again.

She takes a moment, "Surface thoughts can help me know if you're lying or if there's something really bothering you— like your court-appointed therapist being human, for instance— but most things are deeper. The point of therapy is to help you through issues and to help you understand why you do or think things. If it was as simple as reading your mind, then there probably wouldn't be any issues to solve."

Mal glances down, "But we have to talk about why I don't trust humans. That's what you were told to do. I can't just talk about whatever."

"If you have problems that may be correlated or related with your lack of trust for humans, then it might be worth discussing those issues; however, since humans are the majority of the population I think it's very important that you learn to trust them or not to be afraid of them." Mal's eyes shift. "Do you think you could be afraid of them?"

Mal faces her, "I think my lack of trust isn't just for humans. It's for everyone." before she raises an eyebrow. "Is it possible to be afraid of everyone?"

"Do you think it is?"

Mal looks down, "I just… I don't see what the issue is with being careful." before she pierces her eyes up at her. "Why can't I just be allowed to be careful?"

She frowns, "There's a difference between being careful and being offensive. Now, it's natural for people to fight what they fear, but it would be unwise of you to group all humans or all people as dangerous."

"I trust my friends," Mal retorts. "That's good enough."

"And how is it you're able to trust your friends," the therapist calming continues.

"Because," Mal immediately responds, but then she falters. "They've been there for me. They've helped me through things. We helped each other." She shifts her eyes, "We kept each other alive. We're safe together, and we're strong together."

"Safe from what?" the therapist inquires.

"What?"

"You said that you're safer together, that you keep each other safe," she clarifies. "Safe from what?"

It takes Mal a minute to reply, "Everything. When we're together we are strong enough to withstand anything, and we are safe from everything."

"Is there any specific thing or event that comes to mind?" she softly questions.

She shrugs, "No. Not really." before she eyes down for a second. "We've never really been safe… It's, uh, hard to pinpoint stuff." Her mind flashes to Hook and a breath escapes her, "Or, at least anything… you know, relevant."

"Do you remember how you met your friends?"

"What does that matter?" Mal slightly shakes her head.

"It helps create a picture," she explains. "When did you first meet your friends?"

Mal thinks for a second, "Well, I've just about always known Jay. Our parents have been hooking up for at least ten years now… or, at least they were before my mom got all tiny and caged up." She leans back and rests a leg on her knee, "I met Evie a little after I left Uma's gang." She looks down for a moment, "I first saw her at school, back at Dragon Hall. She had been homeschooled before then… or self-taught maybe. I don't know." and then she slightly smiles. "It's just, she had this shining blue hair— it was lighter back then— and she seemed so hopeful… She never really talked, but she always seemed hopeful. And she was smart, really smart." Mal grins, "You never would've guessed that she'd never attended a school before."

The therapist notices her frown again, "What is it?"

"Um," Mal begins, before taking in a deep breath. "I just think that… that she might have been more hopeful before she met me."

"Why's that?"

Mal hesitates, "I… I think I make her miserable." and her mouth is open for a moment before she continues. "Like, either I remind her of what she can't have or…" She makes a face, "Or I'm just so unhappy that I make her unhappy." and then she looks down at her folded hands. "I ruin everything… for everyone."

"I'm sure that's not true," the therapist attempts to comfort, but Mal only sits in thought. "Has she ever said anything to indicate that to you?"

"No," she whispers. "It's just how she acts." She remembers Evie getting all excited one moment and then being let down the next, "She will give me reasons for why everything is so good and perfect, but—" Mal sadly laughs, "Of course, I have to be all complicated and everything. Nothing can ever just make me happy. Something always has to be wrong." before she lets out a long breath. "And she's so great to me, you know— they all are— and… for some reason I can never just say how much I care." She feels the back of her eyes burn, "I could never just tell someone that I love them. Not even Ben, and he says it a lot. Like, a lot, and… I can never just say it back."

"Why do you think that is?" she questions.

Mal slightly shakes her head, "Maybe because… there's just no way it could last." and then she feels the tears flow to the front of her eyes. "It's, uh, just not going to last. Something's going to go wrong like it always does. Either that or he's going to finally see how unperfect I am, the terrible baggage and flaws I have." She looks back down at her hands and twists the ring he had given her, "He's not the most happy person either. He says he needs me, that I'm his light." before she looks back up at her. "But what if I just make his life worse? What if I end up making him even more unhappy or stressed?" She uneasily breathes, "What if in the end I'm what makes his life unbearable, that from everything that's in it, I'm the thing that makes him break?"

The therapist pauses, "I want you to think about what you just said." as she scoots to the edge of her seat. "You question if you're the thing that makes him break. For that to happen, that would mean that he already has pressures in his life that have nothing to do with you." She points up her green pen, "You see, there's a common phrase used in instances that you're describing, and that phrase is 'the straw that broke the camel's back'. Now, people like to blame the straw in that analogy for breaking the camel's back, because it was the last thing on the camel's back; however, the straw was not the most stressful thing the camel had to endure. It also had to have people riding it with bags and water jugs. If in the end the camel breaks, it would not be your fault just because you also happened to be in that camel's life."

"He would still break," Mal frowns.

"And maybe," the therapist suggests, "you are the light that can help him back up." Mal stays quiet. "That doesn't make you feel any better."

"No," Mal confirms, and she almost laughs. "I'm not a light. I don't even have a light in my life. The only luck I've ever had is that kind that happens when a bad situation could've been way worse, but it's still really bad… I can't be his light. I can't be the thing that keeps him going." She huffs in disbelief, "I can barely even keep myself going."

"What do you mean?" she frowns in concern.

"Just what I said." Mal repeats, "I can barely even keep myself going. If anything, Ben is the one keeping me going." before she half laughs. "He's actually saved me from two suicide attempts so far: the first from when I tried to drown myself and the second from when… well, I don't know if I should be saying this here, right now, but the second time I was purposely just trying not to be heated." She furrows her brows in contemplation, "No. It wasn't that I was trying not to be heated." before she meets the therapists eyes. "I just didn't want to take heat from anyone after… you know, what happened." Mal thinks, "After all, if I can't even do something as simple as make my own body heat, then why am I still alive?"

"Different species have different needs," the brunette tries to reason. "Just because you need to find heat from your environment, that doesn't make you any less of a person."

"Can't drink water either," Mal notes. "You know how common water is?" She grins, "It's everywhere. It's in everything humans make to eat and drink. And I can't have it." She sees the therapist about to speak and then places both feet onto the floor, "I realize I'm probably exaggerating a little… but it's still a lot."

"It's not that," she reassures. "It's just that it's getting close to the end of the hour, and I would like to finish up the conversation about the poisoning."

Mal looks off, "I thought that was finished."

She hesitates, "You said that Audrey's servant poisoned you. Does that mean you know who it is?"

"Ben has his information," Mal nods.

"And will you be pressing charges?" she inquires. Mal shakes her head. "Why not?"

"I survived," Mal plainly states. "I just really want to move on."

She takes a moment, "You may say that, but things like this don't just go away. It's still going to impact you on a psychological level, and you really should get closure."

"As far as I'm concerned," Mal counters, "my closure happened when I going through the molting process for the second time in two months." She sees her discontent. "What am I supposed to do? Go back to court? Testify? It's my word against his, and I'm just the monster that attacked poor Princess Audrey."

"You don't think Audrey would stand up for you?" she questions.

"If Audrey were smart, which for a human she is, she would mind her own business."

"But didn't you just say the two of you had a truce?" she asks.

Mal's quiet for a moment, "I don't know what went down at Audrey's place, but I doubt it was a truce… or, at least, not entirely. A fake one, maybe."

"Sorry," the therapist cautiously comments, "but you said the truce was at Audrey's?"

"Yeah," she slowly answers.

"Which would be in her kingdom?"

Mal gives a look, "I guess."

"And wasn't one of your court conditions to stay in the kingdom of Auradon?"

Mal's mouth gapes at the realization, "Uh, I think I remember Ben saying something about Audrey okaying it with the court."

"So, if I were to tell the court about this, then they would know?"

Mal lets out a breath, "Please don't. Like I said, Audrey's smart. If I were her, I would have just said I did it and then turned her in if she did anything I didn't like… I didn't see any papers or anything. It's possible she just conned us, now that I'm thinking about it."

"I'll leave the details out of my report," she reassures.

Mal looks down at her notepad, "Is that what you're writing?"

"You don't need to worry," she gestures. "We still have confidentiality. It's just that since this was court-appointed, I need to update them on your progress."

 _Like my temperatures_.

"Yes." She looks back up at her, "But also nonspecific details about why you might hate or fear humans and ways we might help you through that." Mal doesn't speak. "I know this must be frustrating, but it's not just about the safety of others. It's about clearing your mind of this irrational fear, assuming it is irrational, so that you can have less to worry about. Without being so scared, anxious, or possibly even paranoid, you can become a better version of yourself."

"It's not irrational," Mal denies. "Unless, of course, you don't actually think I was poisoned at all, that I just made it up to avoid talking about other things."

She's quiet for a moment, "I don't doubt anything." before her eyes peer up at the wall clock. "I hope you found this session beneficial. I'll see you next week."

Mal glances at the clock, before she stands from her seat, "See ya."

"Oh. And Mal." She turns around and sees the therapist smiling at her. "Take care of yourself." Mal doesn't say anything back, merely observing her before walking out of the room.


	115. Tests

**Tests**

 **(Day 80-81: Tuesday-Wednesday Afternoon)**

"I have to say," the doctor comments, "you seem a little young to be sexually active."

It takes a moment for Carlos to respond, "I'll be turning fifteen in a couple months. So, not that young really." and he hesitates before explaining. "Where I'm from sex is pretty much just seen as another activity. It's not really… you know, made a big deal of."

"So, you've had intercourse, then?" he questions. "It wasn't only oral?"

"No." Carlos flusters, "Uh, yeah, I have."

"Were you safe?"

"What?" Carlos asks in confusion.

"Did you use a condom?" he clarifies.

"Oh, uh," Carlos quickly answer. "Um. No. Pregnancy wasn't an issue."

"Well, first off," the blond man warns, "birth control isn't a hundred percent effective. Someone as young as you are should take that extra step just to further lower the risk." Carlos shifts uncomfortably. "And, secondly, condoms don't just protect you for an unwanted pregnancy. They also decrease your risk of contracting STDs."

When the doctor stops speaking Carlos comments, "Okay."

He nods, "So, can you tell me how many people you've been involved with?"

Carlos's eyes shift, "Like recently?"

"Considering you've never been tested before, let's start with a total."

Carlos thinks for a second, "Two. Just two."

He nods again, and Carlos watches as he seems to jot the information down. "And how many people have they been involved with?" Carlos fails to answer, and then the doctor looks back up at him. "Do you know?"

It takes a minute for him to say, "A lot?" but the doctor doesn't speak. "It's just, uh, we aren't exclusive or anything. Like, I don't know how many people he's been with or how far they've gone. It's not something we really talk about."

"He?" the doctor inquires.

Carlos's eyes widen at his mistake, "She. I meant she."

"It's okay," he reassures. "I'm not going to turn you in. I'd rather have my patients be honest with me."

"I still can't believe it's practically a crime here," Carlos breathes. "On the Isle no one cared. I mean." His eyes shift, "If a guy did anything with another guy more than just a couple times people would assume they're gay, but… It's not like it was against the law."

"You're speaking of the Isle of the Lost," he realizes.

"Yes," Carlos unsurely answers.

"You're one of the kids King Ben brought over?"

"Yes," he slowly responds.

The doctor questions, "Have you gotten any vaccines before?"

"Vaccines?"

"It's a preventative measure to make sure people don't get sick," he explains. "It usually comes in a shot."

It takes a minute for Carlos to think, "No. We had people who knew how to set broken bones or, uh, home cooked remedies concocted by witches. Nothing so… a shot? Like a needle?"

"Yes."

Carlos unsurely hums, "I don't know how I feel about that."

The doctor smiles, "A lot of people don't like shots, especially people who aren't used to them, but I am recommending that even if your results come back clean that you come back here to get some vaccines."

He takes a breath, "Okay."

"And I do apologize," the doctor smiles, "but there are two tests I want to do for you, and one of them will need to be a blood draw."

"I'm guessing that requires a needle," Carlos frowns.

"It will be nothing more than a mosquito bite," he reassures. "You won't feel a thing."

"I can feel mosquito bites," Carlos complains, "and I don't like them."

"And yet," the doctor counters, "it is necessary in order to ease your mind of if you're truly healthy or not."

He thinks for a moment, "When will I get the results?"

"Results can take up to a few days, but assuming everything goes well you could have yours as early as tomorrow afternoon."

Carlos nods, "Okay."

* * *

Mal sighs as she lifts her arm up from the table and rests her face on the fist, and Carlos faces her, "Something wrong?"

She lets out a frustrated breath, "No. It's just Ben." before she lets her arm fall back down to the table. "He's just been so uptight lately… and I have absolutely no clue what to do."

"You could loosen him up a little," Evie smiles as she turns around from the sewing machine. "Ya know. Remind him of the beautiful dragon goddess in his corner."

"If you're suggesting that I use my hypnotism to get him to spend more time with me—"

"Who ever said anything about hypnotism?" Evie entices, before she finds the translucent, green silk and holds it up in front of Mal. "Now. I'm thinking a black leather brassiere with this bright, smooth fabric hanging down just over the panties." She gasps, "You know what I bet would really get his attention— a G-string."

"Your fashion mind is completely controlling you right now," Carlos disbelieves.

"Yeah," Mal slowly responds, as she widens her eyes at Evie. "Since when are you so cool about me and Ben being together?" Evie drops her arms in front of her, her hands held together as she hangs onto the fabric. "I mean, you don't have to pretend." Her eyes shift, "I know it's hard for you two to share me. You don't have to act like it isn't."

"Believe it or not," Evie frowns, "I care about Ben to. As a person, and I know why he's been so stressed." She takes a step forward, "It's this whole king thing. And his father. His father doesn't like how he's running things." Evie smiles again, "So, I say that maybe you should just let him forget about work for a little while, get him to destress a little." before she takes another step forward and places the fabric up by Mal's face. "This brings out the light in your eyes so much. I think I'll use it."

"And what if I do this?" Mal breathes. "If I go to his dorm, shoo Doug away, and then drop some overcoat, what then? Would we just make out as usual or…" Evie frowns in thought. "Something like this, there has to be a reason, right? I mean, what would happen next?"

"You could give him a blowjob," Carlos suggests, and then Mal gives him a look. "What? It's a very good way to reduce stress."

Mal lowers her eyes, "Even if he wanted me to… I couldn't." before she looks back up. "I can't."

"Why not?" he questions.

Mal and Evie glance at each other, before Mal uncomfortably informs, "My saliva. It has, uh, numbing properties."

"So?"

"So," Mal frustrates, "I can't exactly get him off if he can't even feel it, can I?"

"You could if you used a condom," Carlos counters, and then her eyes shift at the realization. "You didn't think of that, did you?"

She breathes, "I still can't do it."

"Mal," Evie begins.

"No," she asserts, before sadly laughing. "Okay. I'm not like other girls. I'm damaged. I can't just show up wearing some beautiful, revealing clothing." She gulps, "If I did, it wouldn't be him getting destressed. It would be me having to explain why…" before she looks into Evie's eyes. "I wish I could do this for him—for me— but I can't… I just can't."

Evie feels her eyes fill with tears, as she whispers, "Maybe another time, then." She folds the smooth, translucent material back up, "After you're better."

Carlos watches as she puts it away, "What's going on?" and then they each glance at him before giving knowing looks to each other; however, before either of them can speak Evie's cellphone rings.

She picks it up, "Hello?" and then she strides over to hand it to Carlos. "It's for you." He takes it from her and then she looks back at Mal, before she pulls her over to the farthest corner of the room and quietly comments, "He's going to find out at some point."

"If I don't quit," Mal frowns.

"Does that mean you'll try?"

Mal nearly laughs, "I want to be able to do the things that other girls can." as she smiles. "I want to be able to wear shorts without leggings. I want to be able to run my hands over smooth skin." She grins, "And I want to be able to surprise my boyfriend with a revealing outfit." before she lets out a breath and it falls. "But… I've done this for a long time. It's how I make up for all the terrible things I've done."

"Mal," Evie sympathizes, "whatever you did, doing this to yourself isn't going to solve it. Or change it. You're not accomplishing anything by hurting yourself like this."

"Yes, I am," she counters, as she realizes, "It keeps the thoughts away. The ones that play over and over again, when I do this they stop." She looks down, "Sort of… At least it's not on my mind for hours after, then."

Evie takes her hands, "I want you to do something for me." before their eyes meet. "The next time you feel like cutting, tell me. I want to be there when you do it." She sees Mal about to object, "So that you won't be alone. Okay? I want you to be able to say what's going on in your mind, because, maybe, just maybe, if you say it aloud, then you won't keep thinking about it."

Mal slightly shakes her head, "No, Evie. Some of the things… Sometimes I do it because of how I treat the people I care about." before she offers a pained expression. "I don't want you to have to hear the things about you." Her eyes well with tears, "I don't want you to think it's your fault. I can't have you hear it."

"Maybe I need to hear it," Evie softly speaks, and then a stray tear falls to Mal's cheeks. "Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe if I forgive you, you can forgive yourself." She lifts up Mal's chin, forcing her to face her again, "I will always be here for you." before she moves in to kiss her and a slow breath escapes Mal's lips.

"Are you allowed to do that?" Carlos interrupts.

Mal quickly wipes the tear from her face, "How long have you been listening?"

"I didn't," he frowns in answer, before he hands the phone out towards them and Evie walks over to take it back. "Good news," he leans back in the chair. "I'm clean."

"You don't seem too thrilled about that," Mal comments as she returns to her seat.

"Yeah, well," Carlos folds his arms, "I'm sure you would be too if your partners had been with who knows how many people, you've only been with two in your life, and you're the one that had to go in and see your blood run into a tube."

"Hold on," Evie stares at her phone, "I've got a voicemail." They look at her as she brings the hot pink cased phone to her ear.

"Hello, Evie Queen. This is… Well. I'm just realizing now that I never actually gave you my name, but I'm that guard you told about your vision. And I thought I should let you know that it checked out. I won't bore you with the details, but the evidence seems to suggest that it in fact did happen and that he was the one behind it. So, ah, I'll just end this call letting you know how grateful I am for your tip." He laughs, "You got to know who you're working with, you know?" He pauses, "So, uh, yeah. Thank you and have a great day."

Evie grins as she slowly lowers the phone, "I'm not crazy." before she hysterically laughs. "Do you believe that? I'm not crazy!"

"Anything you'd like to share with the class, E?" Mal smiles back.

"Oh, right," she laughs through a breath. "So, you know how sometimes I see things that aren't there?"

"No," Carlos pointedly answers.

"Okay. So, well," Evie excitedly gestures, "one time when I visited you I just had this very lucid memory of getting shot— and dying— but I lived, and now I'm not crazy."

Mal motions her hand up and down, "Maybe, just bring it down a notch."

Evie nods as she lets out a long breath; however, after she attempts to settle her breathing she squeals, before she tries to slowly explain, "So, when I visited you at the jail one time I saw a police officer shoot me, I felt myself die, and then I woke up. When I woke up I saw one of the guards looks like that officer, so I told another guard." She can't help but widely grin again, "He looked into it— that message was just him— and he said my vision was true. It actually happened, so I'm not crazy!"

"You sure about that?" Carlos questions.

When Evie slightly frowns Mal submits, "Don't worry, Eves. I'm glad you're not crazy too." and then she grins again. "Actually. Funny thing." She notices Carlos turn towards her, "As it would turn out my therapist Janis or whoever is a witch too."

"Really?" Carlos inquires.

"Yeah," Mal evenly responds. "She can feel people's auras and read minds."

"Wow," he replies in surprise. "She must be _really_ good at her job."

Mal looks at Evie, "You can, what, relive people's memories?"

Evie frowns as she glances down, "I don't know how it works."

"Ben and I were looking up magic mirrors," she continues on. "Is it true you can talk to spirits and that's why only you can use the witch's glass?"

Her eyes shift, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Do you know who the spirit is?" Mal suspects, "I mean, if your mother kept it for so long, there must be a reason."

"Mal." Carlos intervenes, "Don't you think you're being a little analytical." before she gives him a look. "You're acting like you did back on the Isle."

"I'm just gathering information," she defends before eyeing Evie again.

"My mother kept it, because he did her well," Evie uneasily informs. "That doesn't have to mean anything."

"He?" Carlos notices.

"Do you know who the spirit is?" Mal repeats with interest.

"No," Evie plainly states.

Mal observes her for a moment, "You know, I could make you tell me."

"Then do it," Evie dares. "I have nothing to hide."

Mal lets out a breath before leaning back in her chair, "Chill, Evie. I'm not going to use my hypnotism on you."

"No. Do it," she insists. "You think I'm hiding something, and I don't want you to act like you can't trust me. There's nothing that's been between us before. Let's not start now."

Mal quietly stands from her chair, before she walks up to Evie. She's firm but shaky in posture: she's scared. Mal looks her up and down, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I have nothing to hide," she confidently breathes.

Mal nods with respect, "Okay, then." before she looks into her eyes and her vision turns to infrared. "Tell me, do you know who the spirit in your mother's witch's glass is?"

"No," Evie stands strong. "I don't."

Mal lets the glow of her eyes fade, before she offers Evie a curious look, "Okay, then." She turns back to Carlos, "That settles that." and she heads back to the table.

Carlos lets out a breath of relief, "Good. That's good." before he hesitates to tap her shoulder with a fist. "You had me worried there."

She looks from his hand to him, and then she watches as he cowers in fear, "Witches are to be respected." Mal picks up the red colored pencil, "That's the one good thing my mother's taught me, I think." before she eyes over at the terrarium. "Thank you."

* * *

\- I know. The chapter title is probably pretty lame, but I couldn't think of anything else.

- **Next Up** : Ben, Ben, Ben. I hope you've enjoyed.

- **Update on the Novel Conversion** : I am confusing myself so much. I've estimated that there should be about 1,000,000 prisoners on the island if one percent of the country's population committed high-ranked crimes. Now, the question was how to put them on the island. I was thinking just one big city at first like in the movie, but there would be way too many people to do that. So, it's probably going to have to be broken up into several cities, which without very good transportation could be considered hard... A thought just occurred to me. Maybe a teleporting device, but see, the issue with that is that... I think I read somewhere that it was either tested or has been theorized about, and the thing is you have no way of knowing if the animal that went into the one machine was the same that came out the other... I forget the details, but even though that may solve the issue I'm not sure how possible that would be (even in the future)... I'm just realizing now that I really need to brush up on my science, especially in how it relates to parapsychology, but I just glanced over a book I have and if I'm remembering correctly, the section where it discusses Quantum Entanglement also theorizes how that could relate to teleportation. Theoretically, if one atom could switch with another atom, then why not have the same thing happen with objects? However, I'm not sure if that would be a good thing to implement into the novel or not, having a machine that allows teleportation. Let me know what you think... Anyway, back to me confusing myself. It's the math, really. The thing is I'm typically good at math, but I'm probably just trying to solve too many problems at once: the population, how big a building would be, and how many miles the town would be... I started with people having houses, but then I thought about weather. They're on an island, so there's bound to be hurricanes (or the equivalent) and they would have no way to evacuate. So, they would have to be in hurricane proof homes, probably high off the ground for water to flow under and as small as possible to have the water being able to pass by it easily. This led me to thinking about skyscraper like homes, where the apartments would all be very similar, with ladders and beams in between levels for the water to flow though. However, then it occurred to me that if the magic barrier is still used in the novel (which, how else do you keep prisoners trapped on an island) then the hurricanes and other weather probably wouldn't hit them, so I can just make large, brick apartments instead... I went to the trouble of translating all of these into the Sims 4 build tool so that I could transfer it into feet and miles to get the town size... Not done with all that, but still. It's been time consuming, and I really wish I had thought of how if people can't get through the barrier then other things probably couldn't either. You know, this also leads to the prospect where the island prison (named Purgatory) wouldn't be getting rain, just like how the Bible claims there was a time when rain never existed. So, the prisoners would have to get their water from wells or aquifers (aside from tap water, of course, which may just be directly connected to one). Anyway, lots of thoughts here. I hope it was entertaining for you to read about my struggle of converting this... I really do wish I had the map all figured out, though, so I could just move onto the actual character profiles and writing aspect of it. I really want to write it, but it's probably going to be a while before I can, sadly... Lol. I feel like when I do character profiles I wish I could just write instead, but then when I'm not doing them I have a tendency to just want to do that. Apparently, I just like being miserable and complaining. I certainly do it a lot.


	116. Je T'aime

**Je t'aime**

 **(Day 83: Friday Evening)**

When the door slams shut Doug looks up from his assignment and sees Ben pound a fist to the wall, "Hey. You just repaired that." and then Ben turns the fist to its side as he places his other arm onto the wall and leans on it. Doug hears the whimpering and stands, "Ben?" before he walks over to the door and sees tears fallen to his cheeks. "What's going on?"

"I," Ben begins, before he swallows and sobs again. He shuts his eyes, but the tears still escape, "I knew. It's just, I thought…" Doug places a hand on his shoulder. "I thought it would stop by now."

"That what would stop?" he softly inquires.

Ben doesn't dare look at him, "I should've known. This wasn't like quitting Tourney… I should have known."

"Should have known what?" Doug questions, but Ben fails to answer. "We've been roommates for three years now. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Ben shakes his head, "No. Not you. Not this."

Doug takes his hand of from him, "What about Mal?" but he merely stays silent, continuing to stare at the wall. "I'm going to get Mal."

When Doug leaves Ben watches as the door closes, before he turns around to lean his back onto the wall; however, then he sees the mini fridge and strides over to it. He takes out two of the cans and then goes to sit on his bed, opening one of the sodas and setting the other on his bedside table. The cold liquid is refreshing, and after a couple gulps he lets out a long breath. He slides his thumb around the smooth rim before moving it back in the opposite direction, before he hears the door open and looks up. Mal walks over and then sits beside him, and he watches as she takes one of the hands that grasps onto the cherry Diet Coke. "Hey."

"Hey," he manages, but then he feels his eyes fill with tears again.

"I'll give you two some privacy," Doug comments, before he steps back into the hallway and shuts the door.

"What's wrong?" Mal asks. Ben looks at her: her beautiful, wavy hair, her knowledgeable eyes, and her sincere expression; she's perfect, but too perfect and too innocent. He cries again, and Mal switches the hand she holds Ben's with before placing the other to his face to wipe the tears away. "Ben. Just tell me what's going on." She pauses, "Please."

"I just," he breathes, "thought it would pass, that it'd be okay."

"That what would pass?" Mal questions.

Ben eyes down for a minute before responding, "The raise I gave the dwarves. My father doesn't like it… He still doesn't like it."

Mal watches as Ben takes a drink from the soda, "And?"

Ben tilts the can back-and-forth and feels that there's only an inch left, if that, "And it's all he can talk about." He shakily breathes, "How I'm ruining what took him his entire life to build, that I'm going to make the people suffer." He finishes off the can before setting it on the table and taking the unopened one. "You know, because there's only so much money to go around, and if I try to save everyone then I'll end up saving no one."

She hesitates, "He just wants you to do your best." and then she sees him place the can on his knee before opening it. "My mother was the same way, but that doesn't make it true." Mal notices his hand shake when he lifts it up for a drink, "You're not making people suffer."

"I still have to hear him say I am," Ben mumbles, before more tears fall and he just barely manages, "It's been nearly two weeks." He unsteadily breathes, "Why can't he just move onto something else already? Tell me that a B isn't good enough, mention that I haven't practiced piano in two months, or—" His mind escapes him.

Mal feels how warm he's getting and moves her hand to the back of his neck, "It will pass. Two weeks… It's not that long. If you were able to last a month with me in jail, then you can wait a month for your father to figure out that the kingdom didn't get ruined."

"I just wish it would stop," Ben whispers, "but it never just… stops. You know?"

Mal sees the brown liquid start to shake out of the can, before she uses her hands to steady his, "It's going to be okay." and then she takes the can from his grasp. His eyes follow as she places it next to the empty one, but he keeps quiet, his thoughts nonexistent, before he leans back onto the pillows. Mal moves to lay next to him, observing how still he's become, but he squeezes the pillow between his arms. "Feeling better?"

Ben's eyes droop, "I'm tired." and when Mal doesn't speak he continues. "Really tired."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No," he whispers, before he moves his arm over hers and interlocks their hands. He keeps his eyes open just enough to see her as he smiles, "You're so beautiful." Mal thinks to say something, but before she can he mumbles. "Beautiful and smart and…"

"Ben?" she inquires, but when he answers she frowns. "I don't know French."

He keeps his eyes shut, "My mother's smart too. She likes to read. Do you like to read?"

"Sometimes," Mal unsurely answers. "I guess."

"If she wasn't upset with me, she would like you."

"I don't know about that," Mal skeptically comments.

"Both strong, smart," he lists. "She would." Mal doesn't speak. "I wish she didn't care so much. She cares too much."

"What makes you say that?" Ben repeats something his mother had told him, and Mal hesitates before reminding him, "I still don't speak French."

"She deserves better," Ben mumbles. "He doesn't know what he has."

"You mean, your father?" Mal tries to understand.

"She's so good to him… and he leans on her. She's strong. Like you."

"Ben," Mal starts.

"I don't take you for granted." He brings her hand towards his lips and kisses it, "I have you… I'm glad I have you."

"Ben," Mal says again.

"Je t'aime," he breathes, and Mal can feel his hand loosen from hers.

"Ben?" she asks, but there's no response. Mal moves the bangs from his face to place her hand to his forehead, and when she feels the heat she hears his acknowledging noise. She rests her hand there for a moment, before she fully lies on the bed and moves her hand to his neck, her other hand still holding onto his.

* * *

"Hey." Ben squints his eyes open and sees Doug standing over the bed. "Don't you have some event to attend to today?"

Ben looks at his watch before sitting straight up in panic, "Why didn't my alarm go off?" before he reaches for his phone. "It was supposed to go off."

"Oh, that," Doug remembers. "Yeah. You slept through it."

"And you didn't think to wake me up?" Ben criticizes.

"I thought you needed some sleep," he defends.

"I've gotten enough sleep this week to last a lifetime," Ben complains, before he stands and moves over to his dresser. "Good thing I don't need a shower. I'm late enough the way it is."

"What time does it start?"

"Thirty minutes," Ben hurries, as he swaps his pajama pants for black slacks and buttons up the blue collared shirt. "God. Why am I always late?"

"Too much on your plate?" Doug suggests.

Ben puts on the black coat and grabs his golden tie, "No more than usual." before he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Look," Doug steps towards him. "Ben. I think we should talk about last night."

"What about it?"

Doug furrows his brows, "Ben. You came in here crying, and when I came back you were asleep. Asleep! You hearing me?"

"Loud and clear," Ben evenly responds, before he finds the deodorant and moves it under his shirt to use it.

"Look." He makes a noise, "I'm worried about you."

"And my mother. And Mal. And Evie," he lists as he tucks in his shirt.

"Ben." Doug hopelessly responds, "Would you just tell me what happened? Please."

Ben frowns, "My father offered some constructive criticism." and he slightly nods in thought. "I reacted poorly."

"Reacted poorly?" Doug disbelieves. "I haven't seen you express that much emotion since people were accusing you of doing drugs."

Ben shoves past him, "That's only because I'm not allowed emotions."

"Still," he turns around. "That only proves my point. Something upset you, and something tells me it was a lot more than your father offering advice." Ben stands silent. "Something must have happened… What did he do?"

Ben swiftly turns around, "He didn't do anything. That's kind of the point." before he lets out a loud breath and checks his watch. "I need to go."

Doug watches as Ben finds his water bottle and then reenters the bathroom to fill it up, "I want to go too."

"You're welcome to. It's a public event."

"No. I mean with you," Doug explains. "To make sure you're okay and stuff."

Ben exits the bathroom, "You can't sit with us." before he finds his small, blue bag and puts the water bottle into it. "You don't even speak French. You would get lost in conversation."

"Isn't Mal sitting with you?" he retorts.

"I don't even think she knows the event's happening," Ben recalls, before he glances around the room. "Not unless Evie figured out what event I was talking about before and decided to tell her about it." He looks back at Doug, "But neither of them are here, so I'm guessing not."

"They have a hard time with early schedules," Doug notes. "They might just be meeting you there later on."

"In any case," Ben heads towards the door, "I have to go."

"Hold on," Doug urges, and when Ben turns back around he sees him take the bottle from his bedside table. He hurries back over and shows three blue gelled pills to Ben, "You didn't take these yet."

Ben sighs as he takes them from him, "I'm so sick of this." before he zips open his bag to grab the blue bottle.

Doug watches him take the pills with the water, "I would think you would be used to it by now."

"I don't think anyone can fully get used to an illness disrupting their life at every turn," Ben irritably responds, before he sees Doug's concern and turns away. "Not that it matters." He glances at the floor before meeting his eyes, "It's not like I have cancer or anything."

"Ben," Doug softly replies.

"We're going to be late," Ben interrupts, before he opens the door and strides on down the hall, Doug just barely able to keep up with him.

* * *

 **Posted: 10/20/2018** , because I feel like I should start doing chapter post dates, even though it's completely editable and people can just say I made it up.

\- There's probably better titles for these two chapters, but I figured why not. Also, I really like these two chapters. I hope you enjoy them too.


	117. Je Te Désire

**Je Te Désire**

 **(Day 84: Saturday Morning)**

"We were starting to think you would be late," Ben's mother mentions as he sits down at the round table with them.

"Yes. Sorry," Ben looks down at the glass before folding his hands. "I slept through my alarm." He begins to explain further, but before the words leave his mouth his father interrupts.

"You should have set a second alarm, a louder alarm."

"Yes," Ben lets out the breath. "I was just about to say that I didn't think to do that."

"Well, at least you're here now," his mother smiles.

Ben tries to smile back, nodding as he looks at her, "Yes. At least there's that."

"I hope you've got your speech ready," his father intrudes.

Ben frowns again, "Pardon?"

"The speech that explains what you're doing with the tax money," his voice raises.

"Oh, that," Ben remembers. "Yeah. I've got that all taken care of."

"You should let me read it," his father insists.

"Uh." Ben awkwardly smiles, "I don't actually have the paper version with me." and then he sees his father's glower. "But perhaps I should take a moment to, uh, write it down." He wets his lips, "You know, just in case."

"I think that's a lovely idea," his mother opinionates, and then Ben notices his father calm some.

"I look forward to seeing it," he gruffly comments.

Ben continues to show his teeth, even though his grin has started to fade into a frown, "I will be back momentarily." He stands from the seat and heads over to the small, brick building, before he enters the men's bathroom and hides behind the set of stalls. Ben unzips his bag, taking out the small notebook and a pen, before he places it up against the wall and writes. _As everyone knows, we have prided ourselves to ensure that this country is as beautiful as it is functional._ He pauses. _However, since I've become king I've noticed some things that I would like to improve: hardworking citizens struggling to get by and people who are unable to find homes due to their financial circumstances. This is why I will be putting less of the tax money into the infrastructure and more into the functionality of the economy. This year I have started with something small, a raise to the dwarves for all the hard work they do for us, but eventually I would also like to extend this gesture to more benefits for farmers and other laborers, perhaps even implementing a system of incentive, where the tedious work they do to ensure our survival may also benefit them the more or harder they work to help us survive._

"I will be back momentarily." Ben hears his father's disdain and then turns around with widened eyes, before he steps closer to him. "You think that you can put off your duties as king and then lie to me about it!" Ben leans back against the cool wall, and as his father comes closer he scoots towards the corner of the room. He grits his teeth, "You think you can just get away with this, like you get away with everything else?" Ben's unable to move, both shoulders backed against the adjacent walls. His father snatches the notebook from his hands, and Ben watches his father's piercing blue eyes scan the paragraph for faults before pointing a finger up at him, "You listen here. I did not build this paradise of a country for you to tear it down."

"Some paradise," Ben breathes in annoyance. "Your obsession with appearance and beauty is what's making people suffer. The country doesn't need perfect roads. It can survive with a few potholes here and there. What won't survive are the people who starve or who have to withstand weather without shelter."

"Enough," his father shouts, and when Ben looks away from his face he sees another in the sink mirrors; however, his eyes fall away from his gape-mouthed friend when his father tears the page from his notebook. Ben watches the notebook fall to the dusty floor, before he hears the ripping and stands silent as the pieces fall to the floor. "If those people want food or a home, all they have to this is get off their asses and work for it." Ben lets out a breath. "This is the land of opportunity. There's nothing stopping them but themselves." Ben watches him take another step, their shoes nearly touching, and he shuts his eyes as he senses the closeness. "I'm going to say this once. You may be king now, but this will always be my country." Ben flinches as he shouts, "My country. You hear me? It wouldn't even be here without me. And you." He seethes, "You will do exactly as I tell you when I tell you, and I'm telling you now that you're going to go out there, you're going to smile, and you're going to tell them that their money will be used the same way it's always been: on the country and not people looking for handouts."

When his father stops talking Ben opens his eyes, seeing his narrowed eyes before glancing down and noticing the glasses folded in his hand, before he mutters, "Yes, Father."

After his father steps back and turns around, Ben looks into the mirror and watches as his father glances at Doug, frowns, and then moves past him; however, when Ben and Doug's eyes meet in the mirror again Ben looks down, kneeling to pick his small notebook back up. "What happened?"

Ben stands back up and frowns at him, "Don't pretend like you don't know."

"I don't speak French," Doug persists, before he notices the shredded notebook paper. "What did he tear up?"

Ben puts his notebook and pen back into his bag, "My speech." before he goes to pick up the pieces. "He didn't like it."

"Ben."

He hears his concern, "It's fine. Really." before he eyes down in thought. "I rushed it. I shouldn't have rushed it."

"I don't care if you rushed it," Doug remarks before taking a step forward. "That could have easily been a report you spent a month on."

"But it wasn't," Ben furrows his eyebrows. "It was just some stupid, rushed speech for a country that should be worth more than five minutes of my time."

"This isn't your fault, Ben." He doesn't speak, and Doug slightly shakes his head, "Is this what happened last night?"

"I was going to write the speech last night," Ben remembers.

He takes another step forward, "Ben." and then he looks at him. "What happened last night?" He looks off again. "Please tell me."

"We were talking about today," Ben recalls, before he frowns back at Doug. "I went over there to talk about today, the event."

"And?" Doug softly prompts.

Ben lifts a shoulder, "We had an argument." and then his eyes shift. "A vase broke." He pauses, "I don't know why we have vases. They always break. And the flowers always die."

"Ben," Doug says, and then he looks back at him. "What was the argument about?" His eyes shift again, before he lifts a shoulder. "What? You don't know?"

Ben shakes his head, "It was… just an argument. It was, uh, about the kingdom and how I'm not ruling right, but…" He faces him, "All I really remember is the vase shards and flowers crunching as he walked towards me." He thinks, "My mom showed up. She's always there for me." before he slightly nods. "It's a bad day. He's just having a bad day."

"A bad day?" Doug disbelieves.

"Well. It's just, uh-em." He scratches the back of his head, "You know. He just gets unwell sometimes."

"Unwell?" he questions.

Ben pauses before moving forward, "I've got to go."

"No," Doug disapproves.

Ben feels the hand touch his shoulder and then quickly turns back, gritting his teeth, "Get off of me." before he lets out a couple shaky breaths.

He sees the pain in his eyes, "Ben." and he watches as he takes a step back. "How much does this kind of thing happen?"

Ben's eyes shift, "He's doing better. He's better now." and when Doug fails to speak Ben turns away. "I've got to go. Smile for the cameras and all that."

When Ben surpasses the crowd and steps up to the stage he makes sure to smile, "Good morning, Auradon." and then the crowd quiets. Ben feels his frown slip, as he sees his father walk up to join him; however, he forces to keep it. "So, I know you must all be very excited to hear about where your tax dollars are going to, because there's nothing more fun than finances, right?" He hears a portion of the audience laugh, and he gulps before continuing, "Yes, yes, so I will try to make this as short and painless as possible." He feels his father set a hand on his shoulder, and he flinches, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, before forces a grin, "First off, you should be glad to know that the function of the infrastructure of our country will remain top priority, so you won't have to worry about roads or any destruction from storms again this year." He pauses, "I did make a small change this year, though, and that is that the dwarves will be getting a higher percentage profit from the work they do for the government. The crystals and minerals they mine, they will now be receiving five percent of the profits instead of one percent of the profits." He notices several frowns in the crowd, before he spots Doug making his way through towards Ben's mother. "Any questions?" He sees Doug explain something to her, before she offers a look of shock and meets Ben's eyes. He looks away from her and gestures towards a black haired reporter, "Yes?"

"Prior to your coronation you had several interviews where you said that you had big plans in mind regarding the people themselves," she references. "Like your plan for low-income housing for the homeless, for instance. Is that not your plan anymore?"

Ben folds his hands as he struggles to keep his smile, "That is something I would still very much like to do, but as king I have to think of everybody. So, I can't help everybody at once." He reassures, "But I will be monitoring the budget spending closely this year, and if I find there's room for it, then those low-income apartments would be something I would like to look further into."

A man questions, "But over half of the spending for last year's infrastructure wasn't spent, isn't that true?"

"Yes," Ben frowns, "but that's only because we had a good year. National disasters are a more or less unpredictable variable in government finances, but that doesn't mean that I can just put that money somewhere else. As the expression goes, when it rains it pours, and I don't want to be put off-guard if we suddenly get a number of natural disasters in a single year." Ben lifts a hand, "In short, it is impossible to know how much money could be taken from that area of spending without further calculation."

"But surely one apartment building wouldn't be a lot of money," an audience member shouts, and Ben can hear the tired desperateness in his tone. "In comparison," he adds.

Ben notices the man with the untended beard and brown hair that reaches his shoulders, the hair fairly greasy and looking as though he had flattened it with water. He opens his mouth before responding, "Like I said, I will look into it; however, I can neither confirm nor deny the possibility of low-income apartments at this current time. So, in the meantime, if you don't have enough opportunity to pull yourself up yourself, then you will just have to rely on charity from the church." He sees Doug and his mother looking at him intently, before he tries to smile at the audience again, "Now. I've taken the liberty of setting up a ballot box, so everyone who has shown up today has the opportunity to make their voice heard. The questions include what you feel should be the priority this year and what sorts of things you think need improvement. If enough people strongly agree on a topic, such as implementing low-income apartments, then I will put it under advisement." No one speaks up. "I hope everyone has a good day. I will be free to answer more questions later if I am so needed, but until then… enjoy the free food."

He glances up at his father before making his way around him, and when they get back to the table Ben's mother gives his father a stern look, "We're leaving."

"What? And leave Ben alone?" he disagrees.

"Yes," she immediately answers. "He's king now, and it doesn't matter if you founded this country. You handed it down to him, so it's his responsibility now."

"He's just a child," he disputes.

"Your parents left you the kingdom when you were a child," she counters.

He's quiet for a moment, "I didn't ask for that."

"And neither did Ben," she reminds him, before she pauses and quitens, "He did it for you, for your health." She places one hand on his shoulder and the other one to his cheek, "So, just come home with me, please, so you don't… work yourself up any more than you have."

"What if he changes what he told the people?" he voices.

"He won't," before she turns to Ben, "won't you, honey?"

"No," he confirms. "I won't."

She smiles at her husband, holding one of his hands with both of her own, "Please come home with me."

He lets out a breath of defeat, "Okay." before she takes his arm and walks him away.

Ben faces Doug, "How did she know what he told me?"

Doug frowns, "I might have recorded it." and then he sees Ben glare at him. "Look. If you had been hurt—"

"Where is it?" he interrupts.

"Where's what?"

"The recording," Ben growls. "Where is it?"

Doug offers him a sad expression, "She deleted it." and then Ben lets out a breath. "Look, Ben." He hesitates, "I'm really glad that you were able to help my community, but…" He looks into his eyes, "If it puts you in danger—"

"I was never in any danger," Ben defends before mumbling. "I'm just too emotional for my own good." He stresses a smile, "Speaking of which." before he pats Doug on the shoulder and moves past him towards the homeless man. He watches him take a triangular sandwich from the platter, "Good morning." before he turns around with startled eyes.

"King Ben," he enthuses. "Uh, good morning to you too."

He nods, "Am I to assume that you were asking about the apartments for yourself?"

"Yes, sir."

Ben nods again before gesturing, "You don't happen to be part of a church?"

"I do attend one," he slowly responds, "but they do not always help. In fact, sometimes they expect things to be given to them."

"It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God," Ben quotes, before he acknowledges, "Some churches are corrupted. I think some ministers are actually as rich as government officials, if I remember correctly." He wets his lips, before he takes the notebook and pen back out of his bag, "Do you mind writing the name of your church down for me, please?"

When Ben offers him the notebook his mouth gapes in hesitance, "They offer me shelter. I don't want them to get in trouble."

"You misunderstand," Ben smiles. "Princess Audrey is a very vocal member of her church, and I think I might be able to get her to extend her charity to yours. At least for one event. No one's getting in trouble." He offers the notebook again, and he takes it this time.

When he finishes writing he hands it back and bows his head, "Thank you, my king."

"It's not an issue," Ben reassures. "Did you participate in the ballot yet?"

He hesitates, "I wasn't sure if I would be allowed to. I have no address and I don't have a phone either, so you would have no way of knowing if I'm real or not."

Ben frowns, "Participate. You cared enough to show. Your voice should be heard."

He nods, "Thank you, sir."

"And as far as the ballot goes," Ben begins, and when the man meets his eyes he continues, "If enough people think it's a necessity, then I will implement it whether there's enough tax money to go towards it or not."

He looks at him in confusion, "How is that possible?"

Ben lifts a hand, "Take it from the natural disaster portion of the infrastructure, and if a disaster occurs, I'll take it out of my own pocket."

"With all due respect," he hesitates, "you just became king. You can't possibly have that much money on hand yet."

Ben looks at him for a moment, "If I can afford spending a hundred dollars at a restaurant every week, then I can afford to put a thousand or two towards a disaster one time."

He grins, "Thank you. So very much."

"You're welcome," Ben smiles again, before he places a hand on the man's shoulder. "Now. Do yourself a favor and fill out the questionnaire. I'm sure there will still be plenty of sandwiches for you to have afterwards."

"Yes, sir," he enthuses. "Right away, sir."

When the man walks away Doug comments, "You touched him."

"And?" Ben turns around in question.

"Nothing." He takes a moment, "I've just never really seen a royal do that before."

Ben glances down, "Well, uh, in general royals tend to be very neat, clean people." before he shrugs it off. "I've just had to learn how to clean up messes, I guess, so, uh, I don't take too much thought to a person's hygiene." He turns back and sees the man standing by the ballot box by the stage, "Besides, I think he cleaned up pretty well, you know, given his current circumstances and such."

Doug moves to stand beside him, "It would be more than a thousand dollars, you know."

Ben makes a noise, "I know, but if I can spend over a couple hundred dollars every week on food and drink, then he should at least be able to afford a home. It was the least I could do."

"But you made him smile," Mal counters, "and that's what matters."

Ben turns and sees Mal and Evie walk towards him, "I didn't think you would be here."

"Why?" Mal raises an eyebrow, "You think I would be bothered by all of the stares and cameras and whispers?"

He frowns, "More like it's early and I didn't tell you."

"You told me," Evie smiles.

"I did," Ben uncomfortably adjusts his coat.

"So," Evie continues, "someone posted a clip of you, and it looks like you gave the dwarves that raise after all."

"Uh, yes," he confirms.

"I'm proud of you," she smiles.

"As am I," Mal says, before she tugs at his coat and pulls him into a kiss. She sees him smile again, but she gives an inquiring look, "I know your father didn't agree. Is he still…"

"Concerned?" Ben offers. "Yeah, but," he breathes, "it's okay." He cockily expresses, "He's at home with my mother now, so… yeah."

"She knows how to tame the beast, huh?" Mal comments.

"In more ways than one," he starts to frown, before he smiles back at her, "Can I kiss you again?"

"I don't know," she entices. "Can you?"

Ben lets out a chuckle before leaning forward and shutting his eyes as his lips meets hers, before they part and he moves her bangs behind her ear, "Je t'aime."

Mal slightly frowns, "You said that last night. What does it mean?"

He grins, "I love you."

"Je t'aime," Mal repeats. "I think I kind of like that."

Ben grins, "There's also je t'adore." before he moves in to kiss her again. "Which means I adore you." He whispers in her ear, "And then, of course, there's je te désire." before he places a sucking kiss on her neck. "Which means I desire you."

Evie giggles, "Get a room."

"Yeah," Doug unsurely comments, before Ben faces him. "You are in public. You might want to turn it down just a notch."

Ben sees him demonstrate a centimeter between his fingers before turning back to Mal, "There aren't any rooms here."

"That's not something you would be ready for anyway, is it?" Mal slowly questions.

"Not quite yet," he confirms, before he takes her hand and kisses it. "But I have an idea." He takes a few steps back, tugging at her hand, before she smiles and he pulls off to behind the brick building where the trees hang over them. He motions her towards the wall and kisses her, before he makes his way to her neck again and he intakes the scent, "I love you so much."

Mal laughs, "What? I finally understand a word of French and now you won't speak it?"

Ben faces her, "Je t'aime tellement." before he kisses her again; however, after a few more he feels her press her hand against his chest and he stops.

She gives a questioning look, "Didn't you say you have another speech to do later?"

"Questions to answer," Ben corrects.

"Which you're still going to need your lips for," Mal reminds him.

He makes a disgruntled noise, "But je te désire now." before he goes for her neck again.

She pushes him back, "Come on. I mean it." before she grins. "Part of this is going to be me kissing you, and I don't want you going out there sounding like an idiot just because you can't feel your mouth."

He takes in her sweet, smoky scent before breathing out, "But I want you."

"You can have me later," she reassures as she tugs on his coat again, but then she notices his stomach growl and gives him a look, "Let me guess. You skipped breakfast?"

Ben's eyes shift for a moment, "I can neither confirm nor deny that."

Mal loudly laughs, "Come on. Let's get you something to eat." as she places a hand on his back and guides him back over to the tables.

* * *

 **Posted: 10/20/2018**

\- I've never studied French, so if there's someone who knows it well and you've found I've made a mistake, then I would like to know. For instance, I don't know what words are articles, so I wouldn't know which should or should not be capitalized in a title... Also, I'm pretty sure that in German you're supposed to have the nouns capitalized at all times, so if French has a weird rule like that too then I'm absolutely doomed. Please help. You don't have to go out of your way or anything. It's just, you know, if you know it, then correcting a mistake I've made would be very appreciated. Thank you.

- **Next Up** : Mal's birthday, because time doesn't care what's going on in your life; birthdays are still going to happen, and therefore characters need birthdays. #Logic


	118. For Now and For Ever

**For Now and For Ever**

 **(Day 85: Sunday Morning)**

When Mal opens the door Ben slightly frowns, "Sorry. Did I wake you?"

Mal runs her nails through her messy hair, "It's fine. Ten o'clock in Auradon, I should probably be getting up anyway." She tilts her head to the side, mischievously smiling as she sees his hands behind his back, "What's that?"

"What's what?" Ben tries not to smile.

"That," Mal changes position but fails to see it. "What are you holding?"

Ben takes one hand from behind his back to gesture, "Who says I'm holding anything?" before he grins.

"Come on," Mal laughs. "Before I have to pin you down and take it from you."

He chuckles, "Alright. Alright." before he shows her the small, purple, cloth bag. She tries to snatch it from him, but then he pulls it away. "Aren't you going to ask what it's for?"

Mal sighs, "What's it for?"

"Well," Ben's eyes move over her shoulder, "A little bird may have told me it was your birthday today."

Mal looks back at Evie and frowns, "You didn't."

"Come on, M," Evie enthuses, before she walks over to her and places a hand on her shoulder. "You deserve a good one." She smiles at Ben, "And who better to do it than a handsome prince."

"I mean, technically I'm king now," Ben can't help but correct.

"Which only makes you more grand," she reassures before turning to Mal. "You're going to have the best day ever. We planned it all out for you."

She lets out a protesting breath, "Guys."

"At least let me give you this," Ben ensures, as he hands her the bag again.

She looks in it and sees the number of plastic and paper containers, "What are these?"

He notices her confusion, "Well, it's become apparent to me that you guys didn't have a lot of fruit on the island." before she meets his eyes and he smiles. "The mints you can suck on, and the gum you should chew but not swallow." He glances towards the bag, "They should specify which." Ben looks at her again, "I thought it would be a good way for you to test out different things that you may not have had access to before." When she merely frowns in unsureness he opens the bag and finds a mint case, before he hopefully smiles at her, "I even got you strawberry."

She lets out a breath, "Ben. This is nice and all, but—"

"But you can't wait to try them," Evie helps.

Mal gives her a look, "What I was going to say." before she turns back to Ben. "Is, you really don't have to try to make me happy today. Like, don't go out of your way just for me."

Ben wets his lips before slightly laughing, "I'm not doing this for you." before he points towards the bag. "There's some orange flavored ones in there. If you don't want them, I do."

"I don't want them," Mal immediately responds.

He pauses, "Correction. I want you to try them. If you don't like the orange ones, then I will happily take them for myself." but she still seems unsure. "It could be a group experiment." He looks at Evie, "I made sure to put some Altoids in there too. Three mints for that brand is only five calories, compared to how mints and gum are usually five calories per mint or stick."

"What about the sugar?" Evie inquires.

Ben folds his hands, "I'm not sure about the amount, but the type of sugar has changed since it was first developed. Your body should be able to process it properly." She nods and he turns back to Mal, "I know this is all very new to you, but I just thought I should give you the opportunity to see if you like anything other than strawberries."

When Mal fails to speak Evie smiles, "She's so glad to have you." and then Mal uncomfortably grins.

Ben kisses her on the cheek, "I'll be back at one to pick you up for the museum."

"The museum?" Mal asks.

"The art museum," Ben's smile widens. "I thought we could have a quiet walk around the place and you could throw out terminology for which I have absolutely no clue how to follow."

Mal's eyebrows rise in thought, "That actually sounds kind of nice."

"Good. See you later, then."

"See ya," Mal says, and with a final look Ben turns to walk back down the hall.

They step back into the room and Evie shuts the door, "Mal. It's your birthday. You should really just let him pamper you for once."

"He pampers me enough the way it is," Mal complains, "and now he's spending who knows how much money on me?"

Evie moves her up against the door and whispers, "He's king. I think he can afford it." before she kisses her.

Mal smiles, "I can't believe he planned this with you."

She shows her whitened teeth, "No. I just thought that maybe we should get your temperature up before you have to write it down."

When she kisses her again Mal grumbles, "Come on. I'm a mess. You have to at least let me brush my teeth."

Evie glances at the purple bag, before she kneels down and finds some mints, "Here." She stands back up and hands them to her.

"Strawberry Ice Breakers," Mal reads as she takes the plastic off, and she brings three of the mints to her mouth. "Well. It sort of tastes like strawberries." She accidently bites into one and finds where part of the mint had stuck to tip of her tooth, before she uses her tongue to get it off; however, as soon as it touches it, it dissolves. In fact, all of the mints are dissolving fairly quickly. She offers Evie a speculative expression, "I don't know if they were supposed to go that fast. It was like they melted."

"I think I read somewhere about carnivores having an acidic digestive systems," Evie recalls, before she picks up the mint case. "But I don't know if that would affect carbs. Is this carbs? You would think it would have starch."

"Hey," Mal grabs her attention. "Do you think you could stop paying attention to that label for a minute and pay a little more to me?"

Evie smiles, "Sorry." before she drops the case back into the cloth bag and goes in to kiss Mal again. "I'm all yours."

* * *

"Hey. That castle looks like yours."

Ben follows Mal to an oil painting and frowns, "That would be because it is." before she gives him an inquiring look. "That is, uh, before the curse broke." He looks at the dark painting, and he feels an internal sense of cold just looking at the dreary landscape. "This painting has been here for as long as I can recall. I don't know who painted it, but they must have been awfully brave." His expression shifts, "Or they had a good memory."

"The colors," Mal notices. "Was it really that dark or is it supposed to symbolize fear or sadness or something?"

Ben observes the lifeless trees and the wetness of the ground, "The curse caused the entire area to change for the worse. It was colder, the wolves were desperate for any food they could find— even attacking my parents a few times— and when spring finally arrived it never seemed to do anything but rain." He turns and sees her frown, "My parents can't help but reminisce how bad the weather used to be whenever it gets nice out." and then his eyes shift in thought. "Apparently snow storms were fairly common at the time."

"Is that why you're always so hot?"

Ben stares at her for a moment, "What?"

"Well, if you're hotter than normal in temperature, then wouldn't that make it easier for you to be in cold weather?" she hypothesizes.

It takes him a second to respond, "I don't know. Maybe." before he looks away from her, pretending to observe the painting again. "My father's body temperature is a little high too, but it's nowhere near where mine is."

"And it's not good for you," Mal remembers.

Ben turns back in slight panic, "Pardon?"

Mal slides her left thumb into her pocket as she pulls her bangs behind an ear with her right hand, "At the hospital before court started." and she unsurely continues. "You said that it wasn't actually good for you to be so warm." Mal sighs, "You said we would talk about it later." Ben doesn't speak, so she steps forward and takes his hand. "I think it's later."

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Ben excuses, before he smiles and places a hand to her cheek. "It's your birthday. Today is about you. Not me."

"I would like to know," Mal continues to frown.

Ben awkwardly grins, "You see." before he takes her other and raises them both up and together. "I could complain about my life to you, or…" He takes a step back and pulls her towards him, "I can give you your surprise."

"My surprise?" Mal cautiously inquires.

He guides her over to the staircase, "It's down here."

She groans as she rolls her eyes, "Fine." before she slightly shakes her head, smiles, and walks down the spiral staircase with him.

Ben half laughs, "You won't regret it." and as they walk Mal notices people carefully touching up paintings.

"I don't think we're supposed to be down here," she furiously whispers.

He faces her and places his hands on her shoulders, "It's okay." and when Mal lets out a long breath he places an arm over her shoulders and walks her towards the back room.

When they enter the room a brown haired man bows, "King Ben."

"Is it ready?" he questions.

Mal notices the large canvas and nervously hisses, "Ben, what's going on here?"

"The acrylic paints are off to the left," the man gestures. "Although, I would ask— if I may— that you use the sinks to clean up when you're finished here."

"Of course," Ben reassures.

The man smiles and then nods, "Good day, my king."

"Good day," Ben smiles back, before the man passes by them and exits the room.

Mal grabs his arm and heavily breathes, "What did you do?"

Ben grins as he takes her tightly gripped hand from his arm, holding it as he gestures to the canvas, "I gave you a blank slate to work with." He sees her anxiety. "Hey. It could be worse. I was going to go with the traditional oil paints, but Jay mentioned that you didn't have much of that on the island."

"Even the acrylic paints we got were either dried up or half used. Forget color." She worries, "No one's going to see this, are they?"

He pauses, "Not if you don't want to." before he cups her hand with his other. "But if you think it's good enough, then there is a blank piece of wall you can claim." He sees her about to speak, "And you don't even have to say who you are. It can be anonymous."

She relaxes, running a hand over her forehead and over her hair, "Okay." Mal looks at the left of the room and sees a numerous amount of paint colors and brush types scattered about the table. She takes a brush from the cup, "No way."

Ben walks over to her, "What is it?"

"This isn't plastic," Mal notes in wonder, as she tests the end of the soft bristles with her thumb but then remembers not to.

He sees her quickly pull back from it and then laughs, "What? Afraid to touch it?"

"Skin oil can ruin brushes," she recalls, before she shakes her head. "So can getting paint inside the metal part, and water. I think there was something about water." She urgently looks at Ben, "I can't be trusted with this stuff."

"Mal," he reassures, "you already know how to handle these things a lot better than I do." His smile widens, "Go ahead and paint. If you break something, I'll buy it."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," she comments in annoyance, before she lets out a stressed breath and scans the table. "So many colors!" Ben chuckles as she eyes over them again. "Ooh. The green. This green looks really green." She sets aside another, "And this blue. I like this blue." before looking over the warmer colors. "And this red."

Ben sees her take a brown, black, and white as well, "Do you even know what you're going to paint yet?"

She mischievously smiles, "I have an idea."

"So long as it's not a portrait of me in the nude," Ben comments before suddenly frowning. "It's not, is it?"

Mal grins and then tugs on his tie, "Why? Is that something you would be interested in sometime?"

Ben flusters, "Er, uh, no." before he squeezes his hands together. "It's just, I know that art students do that sometimes and uh…" He watches Mal turn back to examine the brushes, "Even if I wanted to, I rather think I wouldn't have the patience for it." He wets his lips, "And, of course, as a public figure I really shouldn't be doing something like that anyway."

"You get all wordy when you're nervous," Mal notices.

"Do I?"

Mal looks back at him, "I rather think you do." and when Ben laughs with unease she goes over to the sink to fill up a cup with water.

"What are you doing?"

"If you don't soak the brushes, then the paint will dry to them and get clumpy and then it's just about impossible to get off." She pauses, "Then again, the island didn't really have that much hot water, sooo." Mal takes some paper towels, "With brushes like this I shouldn't be soaking them, though. I should just dip the tip in the water and then dry it right away." Ben watches as she sets the plastic cup on the small table next to the easel, before she walks back over and picks up a palette. "I've never worked with such a big canvas before, not unless you count spray painting."

"Well, you have all afternoon to finish it," he reassures.

She gives him a look, "That's great, considering it's already three."

"Yes, well," Ben glances at his watch, "there's that."

When Mal dips the brush into the mediterranean blue she hears Ben shift in his stance, and she gives him a look, "You don't have to stay, you know. I know art isn't really your thing."

"My sketching is actually half decent, I think," Ben says aloud, before he meets her eyes. "No. I want to watch. I do." He glances around, "I was just thinking that I might need a chair."

Mal grins with raised eyebrows, "Ben. If you need a chair thirty seconds into watching me paint, then it's not about the chair. It's boredom."

It takes him a moment to respond, "No. I want to watch. Really."

Mal nods in thought, "Okay." before looking him in the eyes. "I will let you watch me paint if you let me watch you play piano."

Ben stops himself from frowning, "That will be inevitable."

"Good," Mal smiles, before she looks back at the canvas and applies her first stroke. "You can get your chair now."

"You know," Ben observes the piece on the wall, "I think it turned out well." He smiles at Mal, "What's it supposed to be?"

She nudges him on the shoulder and huffs in disbelief, "Shut up."

Ben laughs, "No. It's, uh." He looks back at it, "I mean, I don't know what it's exactly supposed to represent, but it's the island and Auradon with Fairy Godmother's wand dividing the two, right?"

"Yes." Mal grins, "It is." but then her expression falters. "I'm not entirely sure what it's supposed to symbolize either." She pauses, "I just felt like painting it." before she thinks for a second. "Maybe… You see how the colors contrast, but how it's also the lighting?"

It takes a moment for Ben to unsurely reply, "I suppose."

"Maybe it's about how different the two worlds are," she speculates. "How neither is really perfect, what with Auradon being so bright and hard to look at and with the Isle being so dark and… uninhabitable."

Ben faces her in concern, "Uninhabitable?"

Mal deeply frowns, eyes looking off, "Yeah… Lifeless. And unsurvivable."

"May I interest you in a beverage tonight?" a voice is heard, and when Mal turns around her mouth slightly gapes at the platter of wine glasses filled with a sparkling, yellow liquid.

Ben sees Mal's hand reach out for it, but he takes her hand and holds it before she can. He smiles at the server, "No. Thank you, but we're not part of the event."

"Oh," the man shocks, before he bows his head. "I'm sorry King Ben. I just assumed—"

"It's perfectly alright," Ben holds up a hand in reassurance, before he looks at Mal. "It's going to get crowded soon, and we do still have dinner with my parents. We should go."

"Oh." She watches as the server walks over to another couple, "Okay."

They're quiet as they exit the building, but after they get into the car and Ben instructs the driver to go he lets her know, "I didn't just make us leave because of the Champaign. You know that, right?"

Mal remembers how it had sparkled in the light, "It was shiny."

"Shiny?" Ben inquires, before he remembers. "Oh. Right." He searches his pockets for the three blue and green pebbles, and he opens his hand, "What do you think of these."

"Those are shiny too," Mal smiles as she examines them. "I like this green one." She takes it and holds it in front of her eyes, "It's shiny like the sea. Or maybe moss." She looks back at him, "What do you think? Sea or moss?"

Ben takes her other hand to test her temperature, "I think you're a little cold." before he scoots closer to her and smiles. "Would you like me to warm you up before we head inside?"

She grins before kissing him and placing her hands onto his neck, "You're so hot."

When she goes in to kiss him again Ben moves out of the way and reaches out for the com button, "Travis. We'll let ourselves out. Thank you." but before he's able to finish the last word Mal pushes him back towards the seat and moves on top of him.

"You're mine."

Ben's quiet for a moment as he observes her features, "For now and for ever." before he kisses her.

* * *

\- **Yanderesklave** If by an over species you mean that there must be some humans that are technically not human, then you would be correct. By the time you get here there have been a couple times where I mentioned how witches and fairies are legally recognized as humans, which may or may not be due to Belle having been accused of being an enchantress at the time that the legislation, laws, or what-have-you would have been being drawn up. There are other species that should really be considered as humans instead of hybrids under that reasoning—such as angels, let's say— but if it wasn't thought of at the time that the documents and laws were put into place, then they would not have created an exception for that species.

\- **DeathCrawler** Thank you for your unwavering dedication. It seems like you're usually the first person to leave a comment, and although I sometimes wish you could specifically say what you liked or disliked about the chapter, leaving a general comment is nice just the same... I know some people have a holistic perception on liking or disliking what they read without getting into the details of it. I don't know if that's the way your mind works or not, but if you are coming from a holistic perception, then I'm going to have to accept that. Thank you again for reading and commenting. It's nice of you, as it is with anyone who takes that extra step to leave their thoughts.


	119. A Piece of Cake

**A Piece of Cake**

 **(Day 85: Sunday Evening)**

When Ben and Mal walk up the staircase and turn towards the dining room her mouth gapes, "What the hell?"

Ben frowns as they walk into the area, "Mother. I told you not to fuss with the decorations." He raises an arm up towards the streamers on the wall, "What is all of this?"

"Actually," Evie grins as she raises a hand in guilt. "That part might have been me."

Mal looks over the purple balloons, lacy tablecloth, and the multitude of food scattered across the table, "This is like a lot." She steps forward in distress, "You really didn't need to do all this for me."

"Nonsense," Belle smiles. "It's your first birthday off of that treacherous island."

"Mom," Ben interrupts.

"And you deserve to have a nice one," she finishes, before she looks around the room. "So. Now that everyone's here, who would like to have dinner?"

"Me," Jay raises his hand.

Carlos raises his halfway, "I second that."

Ben places his arm around Mal's back, "Come on." before he guides her to their usual seats and spares no time to put a variety of meat on his plate.

Jay sits across from Carlos, before he points towards Ben, "I think you're missing something there."

Ben frowns, glancing at his plate, "Like what?"

"Ham," Jay asserts. "You have chicken, turkey, and beef. But no ham."

"There isn't any," he eyes him in confusion.

Mal smiles at Ben, "He's messing with you."

"Oh." He raises his eyebrows and lifts a shoulder, before he picks up his fork again. "Actually." He looks around, "Where's the gravy?"

Evie points at the bowl in front of her, "Here."

Ben reaches over Mal's plate to grab the gravy, but he hesitates for a moment, as he notices Evie's plate remains empty. He continues the motion, unwilling to draw attention to that fact, and then pours a few scoops of the brown gravy over the turkey and beef. He puts the bowl back, "Thank you."

"Why, Evie—"

Ben hears his mother, "I'm going to get the cake." before he looks over at Evie. "Would you like to help me?"

She darts her eyes between the two of them before standing to her feet, "Yes, actually."

When they make it into the kitchen Ben walks over to the fridge and grabs two bottles of the sports' water, before he turns around and hands her one, "Here." He watches as she looks down with a thoughtful frown. "Look. Um." She looks back up at him, and he wets his lips, "I don't know whether you know this, but my mother's kind of big on health. Believe it or not, if she didn't notice your plate, then she'd probably be encouraging me to add some vegetables to mine." Ben opens his mouth at the realization, before he makes a noise, "Mal told you, right?"

"You're a hybrid," Evie plainly states.

Ben looks away, "Yes, and—"

"She didn't tell me."

Ben stares at her for a moment, before he whispers, "How…"

"You're stronger than Mal, you eat just as much meat as she does, and I suspect your heat issue could be a lot like her cold issue," she lists. "It's obvious." Evie shrugs, "For me, at least."

"Right." Ben shakes his head, "Anyway." but he can't help but hold onto her words. "It's obvious?" He shifts his eyes, "How obvious?"

"I doubt that anyone here would know how to recognize a hybrid if it hit them in the face," Evie reassures. "It's fine. Your citizens aren't going to be able to figure it out."

He pauses for a long moment, "Okay."

When he doesn't speak Evie prompts, "So, are we getting the cake or…"

Ben remembers, and then he steps forward, "Look. My point was, it's not about you. If she mentions something, it's just because she likes to make sure everyone is healthy." She eyes away for a second. "But you should know…" He gestures, "If you can't eat, you don't have to."

Evie looks off and sees it, "That's the cake, right?"

Ben turns to where she looks, "Yeah. Strawberry cheesecake with wiped cream and real strawberries. Mal should love it."

It takes a minute for her to mention, "I don't suppose there's a calorie count for it?"

Ben frowns, "Come on." before he walks with her over to the cake and he opens the cookbook next to it. She offers him an expression of slight surprise but doesn't speak, as he flips through the pages. "Here," he points, before he takes out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

He meets her eyes, pausing for a mere second, "What do you think I'm doing?" and when she looks at the phone he eyes down at it as well. "This will take a moment." He sighs as he types the ingredients into the app, before he wets his lips, looks up, and admits, "I actually… I used to eat whipped cream instead of ice cream." He lifts a thumb, "I would eat it frozen."

"Why?" Evie takes interest.

"Because it's safe." He looks away from her and hurries to find more ingredients in the search bar, "I think it was about seventy calories for two tablespoons." before he eyes up at her again. "And I tended to actually eat it with a measuring spoon."

"Even I don't do that," Evie softly remarks.

Ben's quiet for a moment, "You would if you ate."

When he looks back down Evie remembers, "Doesn't whip cream have like a lot of fat, though? That doesn't seem very safe."

"Fat's actually a good thing," Ben contradicts. "It makes you feel less hungry." He lifts a shoulder as he shifts his eyes in annoyance, "At least, it's supposed to."

"What do you mean, supposed to?"

Ben looks up at her again, "Avocadoes don't do anything for me." before he hands her the phone. "Here's the numbers."

"And this is for one-eighth of the cake?" she questions.

"Yes." He sees her hesitance, "We can divide the number by three. If you allow yourself to have a sliver, then at least you won't feel left out." He eyes from the phone back to her, "Do you think you can handle that?"

Evie gives the phone back to him, "I want to try. For Mal."

Ben continues to frown, "Okay." before he picks up the cake and Evie follows him back into the dining room. He lets his water fall from his fingers to beside his plate, before he finds an empty spot for the cake, "Here it is. Oh, uh, I forgot the lighter."

"I'll go get it," his mother begins to stand, but then Carlos hands Ben his own lighter.

"Here," he prompts, and then Belle sits back down.

"Thanks," Ben replies, before he begins to light the candles.

Jay gives Carlos a look, "I thought you ran out of cigarettes. What the hell are you still doing with a lighter?"

"It looks cool," he excuses, but Jay continues to stare him down. "I stopped. I swear."

Jay keeps his arms crossed, "I hope so, because if you didn't, what good am I for?" before the corner of his mouth turns up.

Carlos smiles, "You've been a great help."

"Since when do you smoke?" Mal questions.

"What? He didn't before?" Ben inquires; however, when he gives Carlos back the lighter he sees his confusion, and as he walks over to Mal he pats him on the shoulder. "It's been all over your clothes, man." He takes Mal's hand, "Have any wishes in mind?" before she stands from her chair and he guides her over to the cake.

"Just one," before she kisses him and then looks into his eyes. "That we make each other better, not worse, and that no matter what happens we will never break apart."

"The candles are dripping," Evie interrupts.

Mal leans down and blows them out; however, after they go out two of them relight, and she squints her eyes at them, "What?" She blows at them again, but the flames return just as strong as before.

When Ben sees Mal look up at him he thinks, "Try it again." She lets out an annoyed breath just as she turns back to the candles, and this time they permanently go out. Ben frowns over the room, "Who bought spelled candles?" He notices his parents give each other a knowing look, "You hate magic."

"I know you're upset," his father begins.

"No. You don't know," Ben shouts, and when he continues on in French Mal returns to her seat.

"What are they saying?" Evie whispers.

"Hell if I know," Mal irritably answers, before she shouts, "Hey." and they turn towards her. "I don't know about you. But I kind of liked the idea of having a birthday where I could understand what everyone is saying."

"Sorry," Belle apologizes. "That was rude of us."

"This isn't the kind of thing you do at a birthday," Ben frustrates.

"No one would have noticed if you didn't make a scene," his father retorts.

"Adam," Ben's mother places a hand on his arm, "Ben's right. A birthday party probably wasn't the best time for this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?" Mal gives them a confused look.

Adam breathes before answering, "You understand that we had to be careful."

"To know who you were loyal to," Belle explains. "It's nothing personal. You've just seemed rather confused about it."

Mal shakes her head, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Ben sighs and then sits back down next to Mal, "The candles are spelled to show how many people you have strong feelings for." before he gives his parents a stern expression. "But what if only one flame had remained? Would you have assumed that she wasn't loyal to me or would you have given her the benefit of the doubt?" They don't speak. "Or maybe," Ben accuses, "Father is just so paranoid that he didn't bother to think it through and because you're just so dedicated to him you followed his lead like some mindless imbécile."

"You don't talk to your mother that way," his father sternly defends.

Ben's mouth gapes at him, "No. Okay." as his eyes shift back to her. "You're so intelligent and strong-willed and beautiful, and you're doing what with your life?" He exasperates, "Being some royal's trophy wife?"

She hears the hurt in his voice, "I helped your father unite this country."

He gulps, "And now?"

"And now," she calmly answers, "I am a homemaker, which is a fulltime job that I should not have to be ashamed of."

Ben can feel the tears intrude his eyes, "Sorry." before he stands from the table and leaves toward the hall.

After Ben is out of view Carlos interrupts the silence, "That was weird."

"So, who wants cake?" Jay claps his hands together.

Evie stands from her seat, "I want to cut it." before she heads over to the cake, picks up the knife, cuts it into eighths and then a single piece into thirds.

"Should I go after him?" Mal questions, and Evie looks at her before heading over to her the plate.

"Just give him some time," Belle suggests. "If he's not back soon, then I will head off to find him myself."

"Yeah. Okay," she stressfully breathes with a slight nod and nervous smile.

Belle moves her eyes over to Evie, "Wouldn't you rather start with the main course?"

"No, thanks." Evie stares down as she pokes her fork into the piece she had cut off with it, "I'm good."

"That can't possibly be all you're having," she nearly laughs in disbelief.

Mal watches as Evie picks up the knife to cut the slice into further pieces, before she furrows her eyebrows at Belle, "Leave her alone."

"A slice of cake will hardly have any nutritional value."

"I don't care," Mal retorts. "She's eating. Don't make a big deal out of it." She thinks, "In fact, no one's going to talk about food at all tonight." before she looks over at Jay and Carlos. "Everyone okay with that?"

"Sure," Jay evenly expresses with raised brows.

Carlos frowns, "Yeah. Okay."

When Mal returns her attention to Belle she stays quiet; however, she continues to observe Evie, now seemingly more concerned than before. "She's not going to be able to eat with you staring at her like that."

Belle forces her eyes away from Evie, but it's then she sees Ben's full plate, "I'm going to get him." She kisses her husband on the cheek, "Be back soon." before she stands from her chair and walks around the long table, moving towards the hall.

"Sooo, uh," Mal uncomfortably starts conversation. "Do you speak French all the time here or is it just when people are around?"

It takes him a moment, "It's all of the time."

When he doesn't continue Mal uneasily inquires, "And the castle… Has it always looked this way?"

"No," he gruffly answers, and he fails to explain any further.

Mal picks her fork back up, "Okay, then." before she continues to eat.


	120. As Though I was Nothing to Begin With

**As Though I was Nothing to Begin With**

 **(Day 85: Sunday Night)**

When Ben hears the knock he looks at the door and watches as his mother slowly opens it. "Ben?" She notices him sitting at the weights machine, "I thought you might be in here." before she steps into his room. Ben leans back against the leather seat but remains quiet. "You've been crying," she concerns, as she notices the redness of his eyes.

He shakes his head, before he breathes, "I'm sorry."

She walks towards him, "You don't need to apologize."

"He doesn't deserve you," Ben voices. "You're too good for him."

"Honey." She tries to reason, "Regardless of whether your father deserves me or not, he needs me. And, right now, that's all that matters."

Ben sighs in annoyance, "But he's always around."

"He's your father, Ben," she reminds him. "Of course, he's going to be around."

He straightens up in sudden thought, "Go out with me." but then he sees her about to let him down. "You never leave the castle without him," he insists. "You deserve a day out, where you don't need to worry about him."

She takes moment, eyeing down in thought, before she meets his eyes and says, "I'm happy where I am."

Ben looks away and mumbles, "We never get any time alone."

"We're alone now," she contradicts, but when Ben frowns back at her he doesn't respond. "And you're always welcome to visit home more."

His eyes shift, "I can't."

"Why ever not?"

"Because." He stands to his feet, "He's always unwell when I'm around."

His mother gives him a look, "That isn't true." and then she watches as he looks away, shaking his head. "He's been perfectly fine tonight, hasn't he?"

Ben widens his eyes at her, "I stress him out, and I'm not coming over to see you just to have you pick up the pieces when I leave." He eyes off, "Unless he's just that well behaved for you… He wants you all for himself." before he looks at her again. "He doesn't know how to share. It's not fair."

She takes a step forward, "That may have been a problem had you been younger." before she places a hand on his arm. "But aren't you at that age now, where you're supposed to be trying to gain independence from your parents and wanting to get away from them?"

"I could do with getting away from Father," Ben evenly answers. "It's you I miss."

His mother nods in thought before attempting a smile, "How about we go back to the dining room, so you can finish your dinner?"

He matches her smile and hopelessly responds, "Okay."

* * *

Ben grins at Mal, "That's your third piece."

She smiles back at him, "Well, I like strawberries." before her eyes glance over to the open section leading into the ballroom. "Those, uh, bags I saw earlier wouldn't happen to be for me, would they?"

Ben laughs before standing up, "Alright." before he takes her hand and she stands as well. "Looks like it's time for presents."

After everyone enters the room they go over to the sitting area in the corner, where five shimmering bags sit on the glass coffee table. Mal, Ben, and his parents sit on the couch, while Jay sits in the chair next to Mal and Evie and Carlos sit on the sofa across from her. She reaches for the green bag, "Whose is this?"

"Mine," Carlos raises his hand, before Mal takes the tissue paper from it and smiles, "Colored pencils?" She takes them out, "A sixty-four pack?" before looking back at him in awe. "How much did this cost you?"

"Don't worry." He reassures, "Art supplies is a lot cheaper here."

"Thank you," she says before continuing on to the large, blue bag. "This one?"

"That one's from me," Ben smiles. "Oh, and," he shows her the tag on the bag, "you can see who it's from here."

"Good to know," Mal shakes her head, before she cuts the tape at the top with her nail and looks inside, "No way." She turns towards him in disbelief, "When did you do this?"

"Remember that thirty minute bathroom break I took?" he reminds her, and she laughs.

"What is it?" Evie questions.

"He looked at the colors and brushes I painted with earlier and got them for me," Mal answers, before she notices something else. "What's this?" She reads it, "Canvas paper?"

"I found that it's cheaper than real canvas— not that price is an issue," Ben explains. "I just thought you would prefer a hundred pages of it rather than three of… you know. Those boarded, nailed ones."

Mal kisses him, "Thank you." before she takes the small, black one from the table. She read the tag, "It's blank."

"It's from me," Jay takes credit for, before Mal opens it and unwraps the purple paper from the single item.

"Oh, my God," she grins in excitement before moving to hug Jay. "Thank you." She sits back in her seat, "Where did you even find these?"

"Like Carlos said," Jay smiles, "art stuff is easier to get here."

Ben looks at the tiny package, "It's two white pencils."

Mal turns around and sees his frown, "It's white charcoal pencils."

His eyes shift, "What's the difference?"

"You did not just say that," she laughs. "There's a big difference, and I've only had one of these before. I could never find them again." He doesn't speak and then she sighs, "Don't feel bad. Your present was very thoughtful too."

He tries to smile again, "Thank you." and their eyes linger on each other's for a moment before Mal finds the purple bag on the table; however, when she opens it and pushes the tissue paper over to the side she immediately closes it again.

She widens her eyes at Evie in panic, "I told you not to make that."

"Inspiration struck," Evie grins. "I couldn't help it."

"What did she make you?" Ben inquires.

"Clothes," Mal quickly answers, before she distresses to Evie, "Ones I will never be able to wear."

"Not never," she maneuvers. "Think of it as an incentive."

"Well?" Ben says, and Mal turns back to him. "Aren't you going to show us?"

"Uh, no," Mal emphasizes. "You're not going to be able to see it for like three years."

"Why?" Carlos questions, and then Mal gives him a look. "What? It's not like she designed you underwear." Mal widens her eyes, and Carlos seems to remember, "Oh. Right."

"Next present," Mal announces, as she hides the previous one under the glass table and goes for the last bag. "Who's the yellow?"

"That's from me," Belle calmly answers, and when Mal removes the paper she comments, "I wasn't exactly sure what you liked, so I got you some poetry, art influencers, and historical books."

"Thank you." Mal tries to smile at her, "I'll make sure to look over them." and her smile widens as she looks back at Ben. "There's a piano in here."

He makes a noise, "Mal, uh, when I said that, I meant more like… when it happens."

"Nonsense," his father interrupts. "Go on. I'm sure everyone would love to hear you."

Ben frowns, "I don't even have a piece prepared."

"Then do it from the heart," Evie sweetly recommends.

Ben lets out a long breath, "Alright. I'll try." before he gets up the courage to walk over to the piano. The others surround him, and he nervously stretches his hands before playing. The keys are mostly in minor, and the song is slow.

When it eventually ends Evie smiles, "Aww. Sad puppy."

"He's not a puppy," Mal gives Evie a look. "He's a deer." She turns back to him, "Isn't that right, deer?"

"Ugh," Ben groans. "Are we still doing that?"

"What? You don't like it?" Mal asks.

"No. Not that." He explains, "I just can't believe we're still doing that."

"I'm confused," Jay comments.

"Yeah," Carlos agrees. "Why's Ben a deer?"

Ben notices his parents also have confused looks, "I went to wake Mal up one morning, and she confused me for the deer she was hunting in her dream."

"Hunting?" his father concerns.

"Is that something you've done a lot?" Belle inquires to her.

"Hunting?" Mal clarifies. "No. Never, actually." She nods, and then Mal remembers. "My mother wanted to teach me, but there weren't enough animals on the island and because she couldn't turn into her dragon form anymore she didn't want to start an uprising by hunting humans instead."

"You said her ability to transform wasn't magic related," Belle comments. "If that's true, then why couldn't she become a dragon while on the island?"

"My best guess, she wasn't eating enough."

"But we send rations there," Adam starts.

"You mean that bird food?" Mal counters, before she frustrates, "Dragons are carnivores, and meat was rare as hell. And if my mother transformed, she would have needed even more."

"I'm sorry about that," Belle sympathizes. "It must have been hard for you."

"I got used to it," Mal monotones. "It's not like I'm a full dragon anyway. I can't even transform. But my mother— I. She…" She grabs her arm as she uneasily breathes, tears intruding her eyes, "I could've killed him."

"Mal," Evie yells, as she notices the blood on Mal's arm and pulls her hand away from it.

"If he didn't do what I said," she tells her.

Evie sighs, "Not the butcher again. Mal, that wasn't even your fault. Your mother hypnotized you to do it." She holds her hand and notices the blood and skin beneath Mal's nails. "You don't need to punish yourself for that." She holds the nails up for her to see, "Okay? You don't need to be doing this." but Mal doesn't speak. Evie turns to Ben, "Are there any bandages around?" before she observes him staring at Mal. "Ben?"

He lets out a breath and looks away, "The bathroom." before he paces out of the room and Evie follows him with Mal.

When they get to the bathroom Ben opens a cabinet under the sink to grab the large first aid kit, before he opens it on the counter. Mal sees his stress, "I'm sorry."

"Run it under the water," Ben commands, not even bothering to look at her. "It's to get the blood out of the way." He hears the water run and continues to set out the other materials, and after he places the cotton ball up to the bottle to soak it he turns back to Mal, takes her arm, and moves the cotton over the cuts.

"Ow," Mal exclaims.

When Ben switches the ball for the bandage he comments, "That was to disinfect the wound." as he covers the cuts with the big square, patting it down to make sure it sticks. "There you go."

"You could have warned me it was going to hurt."

It takes a moment for Ben to say, "Sorry." before he starts to put the kit away. "I just wanted to take care of it first."

"The warning is pretty useless after," Evie sides.

"I said sorry," Ben frowns, before he sees the few waterlines going down Mal's face. "Would you like to tell me how long you've been cutting for?"

She looks away from him for a moment, "I think it started sometime after…" Mal meets his eyes again, "Sometime after I left Uma's gang." but then looks off in thought. "Life wasn't just about surviving anymore. It was about protecting people… and how much I hurt them."

He lets out a long breath in understanding, "Okay." but he hesitates. "Where?"

When Mal fails to speak Evie says it for her, "Her thighs. The cuts are on her thighs."

Ben faces Mal in seriousness, "Do you know how to avoid the femoral artery?"

"The fem what?"

He tenses up, "It's an artery in your thigh, supposedly going alongside the bone." before he thinks. "Do you cut on the inside or outside?"

It takes a moment for Mal to calmly state, "I usually just do it on top."

Ben breathes in relief, "Look. I know this kind of thing can become addicting to people, what with the endorphins and all, but if you have to do it, I at least want you to be safe about it. Do your research."

"I'm not addicted to it," she quietly responds.

"Then you'll stop."

"Ben," she begins.

"No," he insists, and then Mal notices his sad eyes. "I'm not losing you." He places his hands on her shoulders, "I can't." but his pinkie touches the top of the bandage and he takes his hands off of her, holding onto the forearm of the hand that had touched it.

"Ben," Mal's eyebrows furrow with worry. "You're not going to lose me."

"I want you to quit," he insists.

"Ben." Mal makes a noise, "It's not like I always plan to do it." but the more he holds that expression the more she gives in. "I'll try, but I honestly don't know if I can."

"Do your research," he compromises.

"Yeah. Okay." There's a second of silence, "I'll look stuff up." and when the quiet continues she breaks it. "We should go."

After Ben and Evie watch Mal leave they face each other, and Evie comments, "She doesn't do it just to do it, you know. It's because she remembers everything."

Ben thinks, "She meant Hook, didn't she? She started cutting after Hook… after he was bad to her."

Evie softly speaks, "Probably." as her eyes shift. "But I don't think that's why she might not be able to stop."

"Then why?"

"She says she does it for punishment," Evie lets him know, "and she keeps punishing herself for the same things. She remembers everything— she has a very good memory— and she's not letting go of any of the bad things she's done or… what's happened to her."

He pauses, not quite sure how to solve any of those issues, "When you say she has a good memory, do you mean like photographic or just, you know, good?"

"I think she thinks in pictures." Evie remembers, "There was this one time when I asked her what time she woke up, and she gave the exact time. She said she just saw it and then said it." She looks off, "Must suck with the kind of things she's gone through, but, um." and then she faces Ben again. "If you just tell her some fact, she might not remember it. Like, if you two were to agree to have a date sometime the following week, there's a decent chance she would forget."

Ben glances down, recalling her suspicion of him at the museum, "If I don't tell her about my problems, she's going to be able to figure it out on her own, isn't she?"

"You know," Evie steps forward, "Mal's cutting and alcohol issues are some of her biggest problems. And aside from the whole Hook thing… I doubt she has any more big secrets to hide from you."

Ben speculates, "You think it's my turn to tell her my problems."

"The thing is," Evie comments, "what do you know about Mal? You know that she's a fairy dragon hybrid. You know that her mother used her hypnotism on her. That she's been in a gang, was raped, and has alcohol issues. And now, not only do you know for sure that she likes me as more than a friend, but you also know she cuts." Evie pauses for him to take it in, "What does she know about you?"

Ben reflects on how Mal had seemed to envy his life the previous week back in the car, before he timidly answers, "Not so much. Just that I'm a… like her, and…" He shakes his head, "Nothing much more than anyone else knows."

"Do you think that's fair?"

He meets her eyes, "What I think is that she nearly picked up a glass of Champaign earlier and has now just cut herself with her own nails in front of everybody. Now's not the best time to tell her, wouldn't you agree?"

"Ben." Evie hesitates, "I'm not sure if there's ever going to be a good time to tell her." and she watches as he moves his hand down his face in stress.

He moves a hand back-and-forth twice to reassure, "I will. Just, please, don't tell her. You need to give me time to tell her myself."

She observes him for a moment, "I've been giving you time. I just hope you tell her before something bad happens and I have no choice but to tell her."

"I'm not going to get sick anytime soon," he promises.

Evie huffs, "You can't know that."

He deeply frowns, "I was just ill before you guys were brought here." and his eyes move down. "I would hope that I wouldn't get so sick again so soon."

Evie frowns in return, "I can't imagine what it's like to be you." and then he looks back at her. "But what you're going through, you have no control over it. You can't decide when it's going to become an issue. If you could, it wouldn't even be a problem."

There's a long silence as Ben looks down at the titled floor, "I'm just tired of it." She doesn't respond. "It's just… I have to believe I'll be okay," before he faces her again. "Because, if I'm not…" His eyes shift, "What's the point? What's the point of all these doctor checkups, of doing well in school, and being king and having a girlfriend if at any point I could just fall ill and die? So easily, as though I was nothing to begin with."

Evie sees the tears in his eyes and moves forward to hug him, "It's going to be okay."

* * *

\- The thing about Ben is that he seems to confess to things slowly and in pieces, so even though he has told Mal pieces of things, he can't actually say that he's told her an actual issue... which, can you blame him? He's a royal and the leader of the country, so how is he supposed to confess to being imperfect or unhealthy or getting stuck in 'inconvenient' situations such as the circumstances with his father?... This might be a spoiler, but you probably deserve to know that he doesn't actually straight-out confess anything to Mal in this fic, or at least I don't plan for him to. I currently have it planned for him to confess how badly his high body temperature affects him during the summer, and because I plan for this fic to end at the conclusion of the school year, it won't be in here. Ideally his confession would have been in the same story as the one that Evie pressures him to tell Mal, but I guess this is what I get for trying to do things in chronological order with several characters. Sorry. His confession is going to have to wait; however, other things are about to happen to him, and at the very least it should be entertaining. (Those things start in about 4 or 5 chapters from now).

- **Next Up** : Jay worries about Mal, Ben talks with Audrey, and Mal confronts Jay about something... probably not as mysterious or fun as it sounds.


	121. Options

**Options**

 **(Day 86: Monday Evening)**

After the door closes Carlos grabs Jay's hand to keep him from walking, and when he faces him Carlos steps onto his tiptoes to wrap his arms over his shoulders and kiss him; however Jay doesn't kiss him back. "Sorry, but I'm not up to this right now."

Carlos lets go of him and frowns, "You're still worried about Mal." and then Jay turns to sit down at the table. "It's not your fault, you know." Jay doesn't speak, so Carlos goes to grab them both some Gatorade, setting the red one in front of Jay before sitting across from him.

He opens it, "I've known her forever. If she did it and I didn't notice— or if she didn't feel like she could tell me— then it is my fault."

Carlos takes a sip of his yellow drink, "Maybe she knew you would make her quit." before he meets his eyes. "You know, like how you made her quit the drinking."

"I didn't make her do anything," Jay defends. "Her life was falling apart, and after what she did even she could see that."

"Whatever," Carlos moves on. "All I'm trying to say is that it's because you've been good to her that she didn't tell you, not because you weren't."

"Why would she do this?" Jay questions.

"Didn't she say she was doing it for punishment?"

"Yeah, but," he shakes his head. "Mal's always been so… I just don't see her doing this." Jay looks at Carlos again, "So, why?"

He gives him a look, "You're asking me?"

"You did that kind of thing too."

"Yeah," Carlos accepts, and he eyes around the room before slowing commenting, "But I've never done it, because I thought I deserved it. I did it, because I had to." He thinks, "It was like a release, but more— and I am so the wrong person for you to be asking about this."

"So, you can't tell me why."

Carlos huffs, "You say that like someone has a knife to my throat. I'm not going to be able to give you information I don't know about, Jay. It's not like I'm choosing to betray you."

"No. I know that," Jay shuts his eyes for a moment, before he runs a hand through his hair. "It's just, I can't help her if I don't know what's wrong."

"Why don't you ask Evie?"

Jay watches him take a drink, "What do you mean?"

"Well, they've had sex, right?"

"Uh, no," Jay contradicts. "They haven't."

"You don't know that," Carlos counters.

"No. I do," he confidently states. "She would have told me."

He narrows his eyes in question, "What? You two talk about sex now?"

"Sometimes."

Carlos shifts his eyes down before meeting his in unsureness, "You don't ever talk about me, do you?"

"Not in detail," Jay frowns. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone about it, and I didn't."

"Thank you," he mumbles.

Jay takes a drink, "No prob."

"No, uh," Carlos remembers, "I just meant that if Evie has seen Mal without clothes, then Mal would have told her."

Jay thinks, "She did jump in quick." before he nods. "Yeah. I should talk to her."

* * *

When Evie opens the door she sees Jay, "Mal isn't here." as she slightly rolls her eyes. "She and Ben are having a dinner date, because apparently their six hour date yesterday wasn't good enough."

"Great," he enthuses, "because it's actually you I need to talk to."

"Oh," Evie frowns, before she opens the door wider. "Come on in."

When Jay sits on the edge of Mal's bed Evie sits across from him on her own. "Did you know that Mal was cutting?"

"Um," Evie begins in unsureness. "A little while after we met I was doing laundry, and I saw that she had blood stained to the inside of her tights." She looks off, "But it was only recently that actually found out."

"So, she told you?" Jay asserts.

"Not exactly." Evie recalls, "She was bleeding through her clothes." before noticing his concern. "She just wasn't used to how sharp razors are here."

Jay offers a tentative expression, "I thought that was just a myth." Evie doesn't speak. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She gives him a look, "She had to trust someone."

"And she can't trust me?" Jay furrows is brows.

"No," Evie confirms in the same loudness. "Not if you're going to make her quit."

"She shouldn't be doing this," he opinionates.

"Well, too bad," Evie retorts, "because she already is and she has been." Jay sighs, and she grows quieter, "Look. Mal and me… We have an understanding. We don't nark on each other and we don't make each other do anything we don't want to, because by doing that you're making the other person lie. By doing that you're losing their trust."

"Why?" Jay asks.

"Why would you be losing their trust or—"

"Why is she doing this?" he elaborates. "There has to be more to this than just some stupid way to punish herself." Evie sits in thought. "What is it?"

Evie shakes her head, "I think it helps her forget."

"Forget what?"

She takes a breath, "Everything. She remembers everything, Jay— everything bad at least— and she's not letting herself forget about it. It doesn't end until she cuts. If she doesn't cut, it will keep replaying in her mind for hours." He fails to speak. "I know it's hard to just know it's happening and not stop it, but… I don't know if she can stop, not without having some other way to forget."

"We've all gone through hell," Jay frowns. "You don't see me remembering crap I don't need to, or, well…"

"We all remember things we don't need to," Evie comments. "With Mal, it's just harder for her to ignore those memories for some reason."

Jay takes a deep breath, "She started to cut around the time that I was trying to get her to quit drinking. You don't think—"

"No," she interrupts. "Jay, trust me. This has absolutely nothing to do with you."

"How didn't I know about this?" he tears up, his words turning to frustration. "All of the times we stole and shopped together. Those nights when I went to her castle to get away from my father." His mouth gapes in disbelief, "That time that it rained and she had to change out of her clothes. How didn't I know?"

"Well," Evie tries not to smile. "I'm just guessing here, but considering the kind of relationship you and Mal have, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be trying to look at her while she was naked."

"She wasn't changing out of her underwear," Jay informs. "I could've looked at her if I wanted to."

"But you didn't want to," she points out, and he shifts in his seat. "You can't blame yourself for not being attracted to her. Even if you were and if you did find out, that doesn't mean that she wouldn't still be doing it right now."

"I could have stopped her," he argues. "I would have made sure she did."

"Or, maybe," Evie disproves, "she would have pushed you away and lied." He doesn't speak. "You can't seriously be trying to find another reason for this to be your fault."

"We've known each other just about our entire lives," he reasons. "If anyone knew, I should have."

"But no one knew," Evie disputes. "That's kind of the point. She didn't want anyone to know. She didn't want anyone to worry. She didn't want anyone to stop her, and she knew if she didn't hide it from you than you would." She sighs, "If you didn't figure it out, it's not because you were a bad friend. It's because she didn't want you to figure it out, and knowing Mal…"

"She's good at planning, keeping secrets," Jay notes.

"Definitely a strategic person when she's at her best," Evie agrees.

"Not as much now," Jay comments. "She's been slipping up."

"Or, maybe she just doesn't care." Their eyes meet. "It's just," Evie tries to explain, "she's been having a hard time finding… well, meaning, I guess." Her eyes shift down, "She keeps up with her classes just enough for the teachers not to bug her, and she never really tries anything new."

"On the Isle," Jay counters, "when Mal had to try something new, she almost died."

"But it's not like that here," Evie expresses. "She has a boyfriend with more heat than she knows what to do with, and meat is readily available here. She's not trying out a new heat source or some mystery meat that turns out to be mainly plants. All she has to do is get out there and find something she likes to do."

"She likes to draw," Jay inputs.

"She's not doing that either," Evie seriously responds. "At least, not as much as she used to. It's a lot less now."

"Well, like you were complaining about earlier," Jay rationalizes, "she's been spending a lot of time with Ben."

"Ben has his own stuff to deal with," Evie shakes her head. "Mal's not with him all the time, and even when she's not spending time with either of us she doesn't really draw."

"Then what has she been doing?"

"Thinking," Evie raises her eyebrows. "She lays in bed with a notebook that she never writes in, just thinking."

It takes him a moment to justify, "Well, she likes to think."

"And she can't think and draw at the same time?" Jay makes a noise, unable to counter that argument. "Something's wrong. You know there is."

"Of course, something's wrong. She's been cutting."

"She's been doing that for three years, Jay, but she's never acted like this before." Her eyes shift, remembering how she couldn't always be there for her. "Has she?" She watches him think. "And I know on the Isle we were all on high alert, but this isn't just her being tired."

"Maybe you're right," Jay admits, "but you already told me I can't stop her from cutting. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do."

Evie takes a minute to think, "She's not going to want to do anything, and she's not exactly the most liked right now so maybe taking her out places isn't the best idea anyway."

"So?" Jay prompts.

"So," Evie continues, "we're just going to have to keep an eye on her."

"And keep her from doing anything stupid," he adds on before thinking. "She told me that when… when she was put in the hospital, that she did it so she wouldn't die."

"Yeah," Evie softly speaks. "She told me that too."

"Do you believe her?"

"I believe her." She pauses, "But I would be worried about how she was able to weigh purposeful death and possible death and decided to choose the guaranteed option."

"You think she wouldn't have freezed to death if she stayed there?" He questions.

She takes a moment, "I think she could have waited to see Ben at trial." before she faces Jay again. "You know, she hypnotized the guards to take her. They weren't going to… I guess they thought a hybrid would be okay. Or that she was tricking them, that no one would actually threaten their own life."

"If she had her hypnotism," Jay inspects, "then why didn't she just tell them to get Ben or force them to give her heat themselves."

"That's the question, isn't it?" Evie entertains. "She couldn't have been that out of her mind. She had options." Jay solemnly nods. "You do know that she's tried to kill herself before, right?"

"What?" he disbelieves.

"After she did what she did to Audrey, Mal tried to jump off a cliff to drown herself. Ben saved her."

He shakes his head, "I had no idea."

"So, like I said," Evie reminds him, and he faces her. "We'll have to keep an eye on her."

* * *

Posted: 11/02/2018

\- **DeathCrawler** I'm impressed by the amount you read every day. You must either be a fast reader or just really like to read... but then again, a lot of people read faster than me, so I may very well just be the problem. Back to my previous comment, what I meant by a holistic perspective is that some people read things and decide whether they like the chapter or story in a whole without being able to pick out details why. Thank you again for commenting, as with anyone else who takes the time to do so.

\- Okay. So, I think I figured out a way for the island prison of the translated novel to have a barrier without using magic. Ready? Okay. So, here it is. There's this thing called science, and there's this other thing called technology. I know, right? There is absolutely no way I would have been able to think of this before. Anyway, it's a forcefield conducted either by a satellite or a device that spreads evenly... the problem with the second option is that someone could have just easily dug that up... Satellite sounds nice, I think. Then you can adjust the program to change the size and amount of barriers if there's construction going on there, like there must have been after the first settlement had been established. But then again, hacking is always going to be a problem, which makes the paranoid thought of An hacking into it to release the prisons a very viable option. I'm liking this. I was stuck at a birthday party today, so I am so filled with ideas right now. It's awesome and terrible at the same time. Oh. On a side note: please **help** me. An and her mother (the characters based on Lonnie and Mulan) are going to know how to speak Mandarin, because heritage, culture, and tradition is a thing. So, my problem here is when I was filling out character profiles I came to An's favorite number. Now, I'm pretty sure I remember hearing at some point that there is a number in a Chinese language that is the same word for death, and I'm pretty sure that in no way should that be her favorite number. So, if Mandarin is the language that occurs in and if you know which numbers translate to other words, then leaving a comment on it would be positively great. Because, I tried looking it up, and I really couldn't find much of anything.


	122. You Never Learn

**You Never Learn**

 **(Day 87: Tuesday Afternoon)**

When Audrey opens the door Ben sees her open grin, but after she turns her head it falls into a deep frown, "Ben?"

"Hey, uh." He clears his throat, "So, at the tax dollar event someone brought to my attention that their church offers little more than shelter for the homeless, and I was thinking with you being religious and all, that maybe you would know how to spread your church's charity to his? And, uh, you know, have a charity there, perhaps?"

"Okay," Audrey slowly says before looking him up and down. "Which one?" He hands her the paper. "It's a different denomination, but I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

When the conversation fails to continue but Ben doesn't leave, Audrey sasses with wide eyes, "Can I help you?"

"It's just." He wets his lips and looks around the hall, before he faces her, "I know things weren't… great with us before things ended." Audrey looks away from him. "But, I suppose, I guess I still thought that we, that we were okay."

She gives him a look, "We are okay, Ben. I've already forgiven you."

He glances down for a moment, "If things are really okay between us, then why did you confront Mal about me?"

"Because," Audrey reasons, "monster or not girls have to stick together, and as a Christian it was my job to make sure she was safe."

"I think as a Christian it's your job to do whatever your boyfriend tells you," Ben reminds her, "but okay."

She narrows her eyes at him, "You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself." before she shuts the door on him.

"Wait," he urgently says as he takes a step forward, and his eyes shut, as the door becomes inches away from his face, letting out a frustrated breath and kicking it before turning and placing a hand to his forehead. "Maudit." He notices a few stares and then frowns, before he turns around and readjusts his tie as he strides down the hall.

* * *

When the door opens he offers the drink to her, "I would like to try this again."

Audrey eyes between the coffee and him, "It's ten pm. I don't need a latte."

"It's decaf," he reassures, and he sees her hesitance. "Please."

She takes the drink, "Come on in."

He looks around for a place to sit, "Why don't girls have tables?"

"Probably for the same reason we don't have videogames," she surmises before turning around to face him. "So, what are you planning to say now?"

He lets out a breath, but before he can explain himself he notices her roommate, "This is really meant to be a private conversation."

"After you nearly knocked our door down earlier?" Audrey disbelieves.

"You're exaggerating," he can't help but interrupt.

She stares at him, "You think so?" and when he doesn't respond she eyes towards the door. "Why don't you check it out, then?" She watches him turn around to walk towards it, "You know, you say I'm exaggerating or overreacting a lot. At least this time I have proof." before she notices him examining the wrong area. "On the bottom."

Ben crouches down and then sees it, placing his hand to the nearly broken-off bottom hinge. He stands back up and turns around, wetting his lips, "I can fix that."

"I don't need you to fix it," Audrey steps towards him. "I need you to stop it." She glances down at her latte, wrapping her hands around it, "You need help."

"I'm fine," he slowly states.

"No. You aren't, Ben," she responds with narrowed eyes. "Pushing people away, insulting them and pointing out their flaws, and now this violent behavior."

"Kicking at a door is hardly violent," he quickly defends.

"I took the same classes you did," Audrey points out. "You think I don't know what violence or abuse is when I see it?"

"I kicked the door. I didn't kick it down." Ben rationalizes, "There's a difference."

"Not when it ends the same. Not when it feels the same," she asserts. "Okay? I know—"

"You don't know anything," Ben yells. "You've never been abused, you don't know what real violence is, and I bet you still wouldn't know the difference if it hit you in the face."

She takes a step back from him and points to the door, "Out."

Ben's mouth gapes in realization, "I didn't mean it like that."

"I said get out," Audrey slowly seethes.

Ben begins to say more, but at the sight of Ruby he lets the breath escape and turns to open the door. He steps out, and when Audrey comes over he whispers, "I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry," she frowns, and then he looks off. "Tell me. What, exactly, is stopping you from doing this to Mal?"

He frowns back at her, "I promised her I wouldn't."

"Like you promised me?" Audrey raises her eyebrows, before she watches him wet his lips again. "You never learn, do you?"

Ben glances down before facing her, "I suppose, I don't."

She observes him for a moment, "I really think you should get help, take anger management classes—"

"This isn't anger," he softly asserts.

"Anger. Depression. Whatever," Audrey deducts. "My point is you need help." She sees him about to deny it, "You can't possibly run a country like this."

"I've been doing perfectly fine so far, haven't I?" he retorts.

"That's only temporary," she monotones. "Your father's anger helped keep people in line while your parents were uniting the kingdoms, but can you honestly tell me that it helps now?"

It takes him a minute to confess, letting out a breath, "Audrey." and he glances down before meeting her eyes. "My father… It's different than what I'm going through."

"And what are you going through?"

He hesitates, "Things have just been hard."

"Life's hard for everyone," Audrey dismisses. "It doesn't give you the right to take away a person's self-worth."

He observes her for a moment, "I know."

She eyes the cup in her hand, "Thanks for the drink." and tries to smile. "Night, Ben."

He continues to frown, "Night, Audrey." before he watches the door slowly click shut.

* * *

\- Just out of curiosity, who do you sympathize with in this chapter? If I wrote it right, then you should be able to see both sides; however, I would very much like to hear who you feel for more here. Personally, I feel more for Ben, but that might just be because I know what his life is and will be like.

Posted: 11/02/2018


	123. Masochist

**Masochist**

 **(Day 89: Thursday Afternoon)**

When Evie opens the door she sees Carlos, "Hey."

"Hey," he uncomfortably responds.

She squints, "What's up with your voice." and when he fails to speak she continues. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice?"

He scratches his nose, clearing his throat and looking up and down the hallway, before he uneasily asks, "You don't happen to know how to cover bruises with makeup, do you?"

Evie's eyes shift, "I might." before she meets his. "Why?"

Carlos unzips the top of his turtleneck sweater and folds to collar down, before Evie gapes at the sight of the bruises and pulls him inside the dorm. She shuts the door before swiftly turning in worry, "What happened?"

He slightly shakes his head, "I really don't feel like talking about it."

"Was it Jay?" she assumes, and when he doesn't answer she explains, "He has big hands. It would make sense."

"I don't want to get him in trouble," Carlos mumbles, "and if I go to practice like this people will ask questions." He faces her, "Can you help me?"

Evie hesitates, "Carlos. If he's been hurting you—"

"It's not like that," he loudly defends, but then he begins to cough. He takes a deep breath, continuing on before Evie has a chance to speak. "It was an accident."

"Yeah," Evie frowns before eyeing him. "I've had a few of those too."

"It really wasn't his fault," Carlos whispers.

"Why?" she raises her eyebrows. "Because, it was yours?"

He lets out a breath, "Well… yeah."

"Carlos," Evie begins. "You came here for help."

"To not get Jay in trouble," he clarifies. "Trust me. I'm fine."

She hesitantly nods, "Okay, then." before she walks over to the vanity next to her bed. "Come here." He sits down in front of the circular mirror, and it's then he sees how dark the bruises have become. "Lucky for you, your skin tone isn't that far from mine. But I would suggest that you find your own shade at the store. I can help you with that if you want."

"Okay," Carlos frowns, still eyeing the thumb circles on either side of his throat. A dark color like that comes when cells break and blood ruptures from them, or at least that's what he remembers it being. Now, he isn't so sure. It didn't seem that ruff when the action had happened. It just got harder to handle the longer it went on for.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Evie brings it up again.

Carlos stares into the mirror as he watches her correct the discoloration, "Yeah. I'm sure." The color isn't perfect, but he's sure the guys won't notice. "But thank you."

* * *

When he opens the door Jay sees Mal's frown, and he waits for her to say what's wrong. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah," he answers, opening the door wider and heading over to the table. Mal shuts the door and then slowly walks, until she sits across from him.

She thinks for a moment, "I have a hard time believing you would do this."

"That I would do what?" She fails to speak, and then his mouth gapes and his eyebrows furrow, "What, is this about Carlos? What did he say?"

"Not much," Mal evenly answers. "His voice is scratchy as hell." She watches him run a hand over his hair. "He's with Evie right now picking out makeup. Apparently, he asked her to help him hide the bruises earlier." Her eyes shift down, "He didn't want you to get in trouble." before she rolls them at his continued silence and crosses her arms. "Your amount of confidence right now is very reassuring. It's like you have none."

"I can't talk about it," he frowns.

"Can't talk about it," Mal skeptically repeats before nodding with a strained smile. "You've known me how long?" He sees the tears fill her eyes. "You used to steal me milk from the butcher. I gave you a place to stay when you didn't feel safe. Hell, you ran errands for me when I would get sick, and when Evie was nowhere to be found you went to collect spider and snake venom to trade with the brothel to make sure I had heat."

"I know," he softly speaks.

"We've known each other for forever." She tries not to cry, "We've helped each other for forever. I may have even looked up to you sometimes." Mal asserts, "No. I know I did." before she gives him a pained expression. "I deserve an explanation."

"It's not what you think," Jay gives in. "He was asking for it."

"Asking for it?" Mal widens her eyes.

"Yes," he loudly answers. "He asked for it." He lets out a breath when she doesn't speak, "You don't believe me." before he looks into her eyes. "Ask me if he asked. You can make me tell the truth."

Mal slowly shakes her head, "I'm not using my hypnotism on you, Jay."

"You need to believe me," he pleads. "I don't like this any more than you do. I would never want to hurt him."

"But you did," she tiredly states. "And now you're saying it was his fault?"

"No. I'm not." Jay frustrates, "He literally asked for it. He's a fucking masochist."

Mal watches as he sighs and then leans back into his chair, "I'm guessing by masochist you're not referring to someone who's too much of a wuss to stand up for themselves."

"It's someone who likes pain," he defines. "Carlos likes pain. He asked me to do this to him." He slightly shakes his head, "We had a safe word too, but… he didn't use it."

"What's the safe word?" Mal inspects.

"Pomegranate," Jay immediately answers. "Apparently, he hates them and would never have a reason to use that word." He faces her, "Even if it was just the first part of the word. If I heard it, I would have stopped. I swear. This isn't my fault."

"It's okay." Mal says, "I believe you." and she watches as he relaxes some.

He takes a drink of his Gatorade, "You know, I was so scared." before he glances from it to her. "When I thought that he might not like it I loosened my grip to make sure he could speak, but he still passed out, and…" He takes a shaky breath, "He wasn't waking up. I thought that maybe he— That I—" He gulps, and the tears fall from his eyes. "If we'd been in a position where I couldn't see his face or if I was more focused on myself… he could be dead right now."

"But he's not," Mal reminds him, before she attempts to smile. "And you really shouldn't be crying over someone who isn't even dead."

He half laughs through a pained grin, "I just… I don't want to hurt him, and what if now I did he sees me differently, like some threat or something?"

"Have you talked to him?" she inquires.

"Not really," he quietly answers. "It's been—" He breathes, "I don't know. Tense."

"You should talk to him," Mal suggests. "Whatever happened, you can't just pretend like it didn't. You need to be on the same page with him, or else one of you is just going to have a twisted idea of what happened and the other is going to avoid you."

"You're probably right," Jay accepts. "I'll talk to him."

"Tonight," Mal widens her eyes at him. "The longer this goes on, the worse it will get."

He nods, "Tonight. I'll talk to him tonight."

* * *

When Carlos enters the dorm he sees Jay sitting at the table, a yellow Gatorade sitting across from his red one. Carlos looks at him in question, before he explains, "I think we need to talk about what happened last night." Carlos drops the bag near the door and sits across from him, his head kept down. "What's your side to all this?"

Carlos shakes his head, "I'm just so embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" Jay questions.

"I thought I could handle it," he mumbles. "I was wrong." Jay nods, and he faces him. "You should know, you won't have to worry about me asking that again. I've decided that I really don't like to be choked."

"Are you sure?" He sees his expression, "I mean, it's just that out of all the things for you not to like, this was something more common. It's supposed to enhance orgasms or something."

Carlos shifts his eyes in thought, "My brain couldn't stop thinking. There wasn't really a difference for me."

"Do you not like it because it's dangerous, because I don't think it's supposed to be that dangerous," Jay inputs.

"Yes," he unsurely answers, "but it's more than that." He faces him, "I don't like not being in control, and I don't like putting my life in the hands of someone else." He pauses, criticizing himself for the wording. "It was wrong for me to ask you."

Jay hesitates, "The part that bothers me is that you said you would use the safe word if you ever felt real pain, and you didn't. How am I supposed to trust you now?"

"I'm sorry," Carlos whispers. "I really thought I could handle it."

"This isn't about what you can handle," Jay frustrates. "This is supposed to be about what you like, and even you said you don't like all kinds of pain. You shouldn't have been so ashamed or whatever not to stop it. You should have said the word the moment you weren't sure how you felt about it. We could have talked. We could have figured out why you didn't like it, and if you still wanted to do it, then we could have tried it differently. You didn't need to keep going like that. You could have stopped."

"And you wouldn't have thought I was faking it?"

"Faking what? Being a masochist?" Carlos doesn't speak. "The only thing that's making me question that is that if there is a kind of pain you like, then why wouldn't you tell me I was going too hard on you for it to be pleasurable. Unless, of course, all pain feels the same to you and you're just trying to punish yourself like Mal."

He gives him a look, "I'm not."

Jay attempts a relaxing breath, "Then just be frickin' honest with me next time. I'm not going to be able to do this if you aren't." He realizes, "Have you done this with other things, going longer or harder than you wanted to?"

"Not really," Carlos mumbles.

"Not really," Jay repeats in disdain before shaking his head. "I could have lost you. You know that? We all could have, and then I wouldn't just be feeling guilty. I would have also been in jail, probably, crying about you dying."

Carlos comments, "You never cry."

It takes a minute for Jay to say, "We've been going at this for a couple years now." as he looks into his eyes. "If you did, I probably would."

"I'm sorry," he manages.

Jay continues to frown, "I just need to know that if I continue to do this with you that you won't be afraid to tell me to stop."

"Jay," Carlos glances down. "This isn't your fault."

"That's not what I need to hear," he asserts.

Carlos looks back at him, "I'll try to be more honest with you… and to myself."

Jay nods, "Okay, then."

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Ben's life gets a lot harder

Posted: 11/02/2018


	124. To Ash

**To Ash**

 **(Day 91: Saturday Afternoon)**

"Next up on the agenda," Ben glances down at his notepad, before he cautiously eyes over the council, "is the ballot results from the tax dollar event. I had listed five options: tax cuts for small businesses, more or higher incentives for farmers, an upgrade to the community centers, reconstruction of railroad lines to lower expected travel times, or low-income housing." They keep their attention focused on him. "The highest amount of votes went towards the low-income housing at fifty-two percent, followed by tax cuts at nineteen percent and reconstruction of railroads at sixteen percent." He clasps his hands over his notes, "Over half of the inquired population has asked for something, and I believe it would be irresponsible to deny them of what they say they need." He announces, "And so, I propose that we construct a low-income apartment in each of our kingdoms, including a lobby area where the more impoverished homeless can take shelter when needed."

After he stops speaking King Phillip questions, "How do you plan to pay for this?"

"We will use the leftover money from the infrastructure and natural disaster funds that was not spent last year." He nods, "And more than that, if needed."

"More than that?" King Eric speaks up in disbelief. "Since you've retired magic, my father-in-law has been unable to tame the storms of the sea. What is my kingdom supposed to do the next time a hurricane hits us?"

"First off," Ben addresses, "I didn't retire magic; my parents did, and despite the rumors that they did it for their own selfish purposes, magic when used in excess always leads to an undesired result. The triton may have been able to keep storms at bay, but that energy had to go somewhere and who's to say that it wouldn't have built up with time and destroyed us all?"

King Eric looks down in thought, "Sorry, my king."

Ben's eyes shift, "Look." before he wets his lips. "I realize I'm a lot younger than all of you." He glances over them, "But would you not rather make sure your citizens have a safe place to wait out a storm, even if it means your buildings aren't in absolute perfect, beautiful condition once the damage has been done?"

"There's no need for us to choose," King Phillip speaks up. "It's the church's responsibility to care for those who cannot care for themselves. The government should be focused on laws and the country as a whole. The people wouldn't want us to get involved."

"The people are asking for us to get involved," Ben swiftly reminds him, "and I mean no disrespect to any religion, but a church is only as charitable as the people running them. Your family may have cared for your community through the church, but that same selflessness has not extended to the rest of the country." He thinks aloud, "I don't need to remind anyone here that the Roman Catholic Church was the lawmaking authority of this land, and it was not they who united the kingdoms. They had a chance to serve the people and they failed. Are we really to stand idly by in hopes that they will not fail our people again?" He watches everyone look over one another, "My proposition is simple." before he uses the remote to turn on the projector and the council examines the diagram. "We will start with a five story building, the ground floor as a spacious lobby and the upper floors consisting of twelve apartments per floor for residents. We will not cut corners on materials." They face him again. "If your kingdom gets hurricanes, then use flood resistant materials. If your area gets sandstorms, then make sure any openings into the building can either be fully closed or covered. It sounds costly, yes, but if any corners are cut, you will not only be disrespecting my authority but you will also be doing a disservice to your people and yourselves, as the maintenance of an improperly constructed building will be more costly than the construction of a properly constructed one." He eyes over them, "Once the apartments have been built and inspected for safety we will reconvene to discuss a cost for the current homeless to rent at, but please keep in mind that any profit we earn from this will start only as the continuing life of those who may have died otherwise and that as far as money goes this will very much be a long-term investment." Ben pauses, "Any questions?"

"Yes," the sultan speaks up. "When will we expect to see the details of this project?"

Ben smiles, "Everyone here has already been sent documents, which can be added to when looking over their electronic format. For anyone here who may or may not be able to access the internet or who finds the traditional way easier, then you may either send me a letter or a voicemail and I will review your questions or concerns."

King Arthur comments, "King Ben, Camelot has a hard enough time keeping buildings up the way it is. How can you expect us to follow through with this project of yours?"

Ben half laughs, glancing down with a grin, "That was a major oversight by my father." before he frowns at him with an intense stare. "When I said not to cut corners I meant it. I expect you to build with fireproof materials. In fact, I'm now expecting you to have all of your buildings coated in fireproof polymer until this war you have with the dragons ceases."

"You can't be serious," he disapproves.

"Camelot has consumed more financial resources than all of the other kingdoms combined," Ben asserts. "So, yes. I'm very serious."

King Arthur takes a breath before trying to reason, "My king, please understand. The dragons haven't just been burning our buildings down. They've also been stealing our cargo."

Ben slightly nods in thought, "Trade with them."

"Excuse me?"

"Are you not stealing their food from them?" he accuses.

"Dragon armor is impenetrable without magic," he softly, yet urgently, defends. "How else am I supposed to rid my kingdom of those beasts?"

"Those beasts?" Ben raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "Those beasts are intelligent creatures, and it's exactly because of their impenetrable armor and long lifespan that you shouldn't be stealing their food. If you think keeping the wild animal population low is somehow going to starve them to death, then you're dead wrong. Because, when their food supply runs out they are going to be forced to kill off your livestock, and up until this point dragons have chosen not to make humans their primary food source but we are all aware they could if they wanted to."

After King Arthur silences King Charming speaks up, "Ben, don't you think you're taking this a little personally?"

"My girlfriend is only part dragon," he sarcastically responds as he eyes down the Camelot king. "How could I possibly be taking this personally?"

"We can't just trade meat for our cargo," King Arthur quietly addresses. "They would probably kill us on the spot."

Ben thinks for a moment, "I would say that if the dragons are as strategic as my girlfriend can be, then you would have nothing to worry about; however, I also know that when Mal's needs aren't met, then she is a lot more rash in her thinking. And you have been starving these poor creatures, so what do we do now?" He glances down, "You notice how your kingdom is the only one being rampaged by these so-called beasts?" and he gives the king a moment to mull it over. "If you leave the dragons alone, then just maybe they will eventually leave you alone."

"Eventually?" he loudly questions.

"Yes. Eventually," Ben evenly states, "because genocide is not something someone just gets over, and because dragons can live a thousand years that only means they would be remembering those attempts firsthand."

"Who said dragons live a thousand years?" the sultan inquires.

"My girlfriend," Ben informs. "Apparently, her mother is already about three hundred years old, and we all know how Maleficent took her revenge."

"So, dragons live a long time," King Arthur comments, and Ben turns back to him. "They can't possibly keep a thousand years of memories."

"No. They can," Ben automatically disputes.

"And how do you know that?" Camelot's king skeptically responds.

It takes a minute for Ben to admit, "Not to delve into personal matters or anything, but my girlfriend has a hard time forgetting anything bad that's ever happened to her."

He frustrates, "Stop using your girlfriend as a source. Just because something happens to her doesn't mean that it will happen to a real dragon."

"Are you willing to take that chance?" Ben retorts with raised eyebrows, and when the king fails to answer he continues. "Here's what we're going to do: you are going to leave the dragons to their own devices, you will care for your people by keeping them out of this futile war, and you will fireproof the outer layers of your buildings in case the dragons decide they still can't trust coexisting with you."

He gives in with a bow of his head, "As you wish, my king."

* * *

After the meeting is finished King Charming shakes Ben's hand just outside of the door, "For what it's worth, I think this project of yours will pay off."

"Thank you," Ben tries to smile, but then he recalls his comment. "And the decision I've made about the dragons." He watches the king begin to frown, "What did you think of that?"

"Honestly?" He purses his lips before saying, "I think dragons are too different from humans to coexist with us. If they really are intelligent enough to steal cargo, then that makes them a threat. And carnivores no less."

"Vampires are considered carnivores too," Ben unsurely debates, "but we're not trying to kill them off."

"Because they can communicate with us," the king explains. "Any species is going to be less likely to kill someone when they can understand what they're saying."

Ben thinks, "Who's to say that dragons don't understand what humans say?"

King Charming looks at him for a moment, "If dragons can understand human language and still eat humans—" He sees Ben about to interrupt, "Whether provoked or not, then that makes each and every one of them no less evil than Maleficent." He hesitates, "And as far as vampires go, that's just a bad comparison. A vampire is nothing more than a human infected with a blood transmittable retrovirus. It's a disease. They're not even really another species."

Ben wets his lips, "I think some vampires would disagree with you about it being a disease. A lot of them are just born that way. It's who they are."

"And people can be born with HIV too," he counters, "but sensitivity to light and heat, daytime tiredness, and an increased risk for sunburn and skin cancer, that's not a good thing."

"They can see in the dark," Ben rebuttals, "and they have heightened senses in general. Every con they face has a correlated pro."

"But is that worth their cravings?" he seriously inquires. "Is strength, speed, and a faster healing process really worth their need for blood?"

Ben's eyes shift, recalling just how many times he's struggled to ignore his mother's scent, "No." He slowly shakes his head, "It really isn't."

"And, sadly, after all this time there's still no cure." Ben meets his eyes, and King Charming tries to smile. "At least with the donor program no one's going to get killed."

"Like all vampires are going to want to come out," Ben skeptically responds. "And the entire process is tedious: the screenings, filing documents, and the safety check-ins. Talk about an intrusion of privacy. I doubt everyone follows the rules."

The king's smile falters, "They will if they don't want to end up in prison."

"They end up in prison if a documented donor is being mistreated or if a non-donor claims they were violated," Ben reminds him. "No one goes to prison if they're being safe."

"The only safe way is to be screened and monitored," he sternly remarks. "Otherwise diseases spread and people get killed." Ben eyes away for a moment, and he places a hand on his shoulder with a slight smile, "This was a very nice discussion, but rules and laws are in place for a reason."

Ben slightly nods, "Of course." but he continues to frown.

He lets his hand slide off of him, "You know… If you knew someone who was breaking the rules, then it is your job to make sure they follow them."

Ben cockily smiles, "I don't know anyone who doesn't follow the rules."

"Not even your girlfriend?" he suggests, and then Ben's mouth gapes. "Being part dragon, I imagine she would be a carnivore."

"More or less." Ben wets his lips, "But she doesn't eat any more meat than I do." and then his eyes shift. "It's really a nonissue."

The king smiles, "I'm glad to hear that." before he checks his watch. "I'm sorry King Ben, but if I want to be home in time for dinner I have to leave."

"Of course." Ben attempts to smile, "It was nice having you here." and after he watches King Charming head for the front door Ben maneuvers towards the left staircase, going up two stories before turning down the hallway and facing his father. Ben's smile falls at the sight of his squinted eyes and clenched jaw.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," he glares at him.

Ben's mouth gapes, "Father." He breaths, "I—"

"You dare build these homes for those lazy lowlifes," he shouts as he walks forward.

Ben steps back, his heart starting to race, before he yells back, "This is a long-term investment. It will do everyone well."

"It's a handout," he loudly disputes as he comes nearer. "You should be focusing on people who matter."

"These people do matter," Ben furrows his brows, but as his father takes another step forward he takes another step back. He unsteadily breathes, "Everyone matters." His father stomps forward, towering over him, and when Ben tries to step back he feels the edge and glances over his shoulder. He's back by the white marble staircase. He takes a shaky breath before widening his eyes at his father, "Dad."

"You're a weak king," he grits his teeth. "You're going to turn this country to ash. You and your dragon girlfriend."

"Please," Ben pleads.

He takes another step, and Ben watches as his exit to the dining room is blocked. He should have gone when he had the chance. "You're just a stupid child, and your mother still plotted against me to give you the throne."

"You participated in the ceremony," Ben desperately tries to remind him.

"You think I would willingly hand it off?" he takes a final step forward. "It was your mother. Her beauty. Her fancy words." His blue eyes pinpoint at Ben, "She loves you more."

"She's my mother," Ben tries to reason. "There's chemicals in the brain— and hormones— that connect a mother to her child, but that doesn't make her love me more."

"It's always about you," he fumes. "How's Ben? What did you say? You should think about him more." He shouts, "Well, I say I've thought enough." as he leans forward, and Ben moves back; however, when he does he feels his foot leave the step, and he turns his other foot in attempt to keep balance. He sees the steps below and tries to grab for the banister, but his fingers are just out of reach and he falls on his shoulder before tumbling down the stairs.

When Ben opens his eyes they widen at the sight of his father kneeling over him, and he grits his teeth, "Get the fuck away from me." He hears a ringing and then feels the sore spot on the back of his head, but when he feels the wetness he looks at his hand. The fingers are covered in red, and the smell is chalky but sweet.

"Belle," his father calls, and Ben's eyes shut hard at the loudness. "Belle." He grabs his arm, "You should—"

"Don't touch me," Ben pulls it away.

"You need to cover your head," he insists.

Ben pauses for a moment, glancing at the red on his fingers before placing the hand back to the sore spot on his head, and he looks up as he watches his mother come out of the left of the light. "What happened?" she worries as her heals clack down the stairs. "Ben." He sees her standing near his legs, her hand clutching onto the end of the banister. "Can you stand?" she repeats, and Ben looks around, realizing that he's still lying on the floor.

He moves his legs off from the stairs and sits up; however, when he uses his left hand to stand he groans at the pain in his shoulder, automatically moving his right hand towards it and staining his suit jacket with the blood. "What's wrong?" he hears his father's voice, and he gapes at him in disbelief before shaking his head.

His mother steps forward to offer him her hand, and he uses it to stand to his feet. Her face turns to horror, and when Ben turns to see the puddle of blood he reaches for his head again. She moves a hand over his back, "Come on. We need to get you to the hospital." before she guides him down the second flight of stairs and the three of them head out the front door.

* * *

-Posted: 11/08/2018

\- **Rose** The funny thing about your post is that I saw it in my email box first, and it didn't actually show as a comment on this cite until about three days later and now you have two posts saying the same thing. Anyway, thank you for your comment. I'm glad you're enjoying the dynamics between Mal, Evie, and Ben. Even though this story is labeled as a Romance the romance itself isn't the main thing going on, so it's good to know that I've been able to keep characters talking to each other despite that. Notice how some movies don't have characters saying anything to each other if it doesn't forward the plot? I know a time limit is a thing (and something I'm really bad at), but it's like... you can't just put three people together and claim they're friends (who else hates exposition?). It needs to get shown somehow.

\- **Tzei** Awesome job at getting through 108 chapters in a day and a half. It's okay. I've noticed plenty of people who have binge-read my stories... Some people decide they don't like it and quit because they don't consider psychology to be as entertaining as action, but— hey— it's people like you who make up for people like those. (I private messaged you the answers to your questions/comments. If you didn't get it, let me know and I can answer them here instead... maybe just shorter).

\- So, because of what I've spoken about in the Author Notes previously, I feel the need to mention that in no time in my life did I ever fall down the stairs due to someone's intimidation... On the other hand, when I was living at my cousins in elementary school we were all downstairs, and I was bored out of my mind because everyone was watching football (American, not soccer). I was sitting behind them as they had their eyes glued to this small, black TV box, and at some point someone was pretending to punch me. They kept doing it, I kept sliding back, and eventually I fell back over the side of the bed and cracked my head on the concrete floor. According to my aunt there was a lot of blood but that I didn't even cry, which could either be due to my high pain tolerance or a concussion I was never informed about. Now, for a long time afterwards whenever I mentioned the incident my cousins were insisting that I had been jumping on the bed and that's how I fell (which, yeah. I was bored and I remember moving a lot, but I don't recall any actual jumping). They would always sing the song about monkeys jumping on the bed whenever anyone brought it up, so I eventually stopped talking about it. When I went to the doctor I got stitches with what they told me was a stapler, and to this day I can still feel the scar on the back of my head. It's like a long cut dented outward.


	125. I Love You Too

**I Love You Too**

 **(Day 91: Saturday Evening)**

Ben looks around the brightly lit room as he sits on the end of the tall bed, glancing over his parents before looking at the brown haired doctor. He hears thuds and clanks of metal, but he can't see what the doctor is doing. Ben watches his mother smile and his father breathe with relief, before he sees the doctor turn around with a weirdly shaped object. He walks towards him, saying something in English, and Ben leans back in fright, "What is that?"

When the doctor look towards his parents Ben follows his eyes, and then his mother informs, "It's a stapler to stitch up the wound on your head." Ben eyes over the floor as he looks back to the doctor, and he nods before facing forward at his parents. He feels the pinching, but his eyes wander towards the hallway. People keep looking in as they walk past, and he hears the clicking sound of the photo the girl takes before the door shuts. Ben sees his father standing next to it, and their eyes meet briefly before Ben eyes off towards the plastic cylinders near the sink. There's cotton balls, sticks, and swabs, and when he looks at the other side of the sink he sees the hand sanitizer machine on the wall before the doctor blocks his view and says something.

Ben looks at his mother, "Can we go home now?" and she offers an unsure look before eyeing up at the doctor. He hears the incompressible words again and lets out an annoyed breath, before the man steps in front of him and flashes a small light into his eyes. Ben squints and bears his teeth, until the light goes away and the doctor holds a finger up in front of him. It moves to the left, the right, up, and then down, before he holds up a couple fingers and says something. "Many?" Ben repeats with furrowed brows, and the doctor speaks a sentence very similar to the one before. It takes Ben a moment to realize, "Two." and then the fingers switch and he lets out a relaxing breath at his stupidity. "Five." The fingers switch again, and it takes him a minute to search for the English word, "Eight?" Ben watches the doctor turn to his parents, before his mother nods with a frown.

After the doctor leaves Ben sees his mother stand, and he stands from the bed before heading out the door; however, it's then he feels his mother's hand on his right shoulder, and when he turns around his slight smile slips as he sees her frown. "Where are you going?"

Ben glances towards his right and sees the glass doors past the lobby, before he unsurely comments to her, "Are we not going home?"

She slowly shakes her head, "Not yet." before she attempts to smile. "The doctor wanted us to get an x-ray for your shoulder. Remember?"

He sees that her warm brown eyes have somehow turned to that of watery mud puddles, "Right." and he looks away for a moment. "Where would that be?"

"Just follow me," she says, before she turns around, begins walking with his father, and he follows closely behind her. The room they enter is also secluded, and after the woman in the lab coat addresses him with a smile he attempts to smile back with a nod; however, her next sentence doesn't make any sense and he frowns again. "Ben," he hears his mother and looks towards her. "Your jacket." Ben looks forward again and touches the collar of his jacket, before he sees the table with the hovering machine. He unbuttons it and takes it off. "I can hold onto it for you." Ben turns back around to hand the coat to his mother, and she folds it over her arm before he looks back and walks toward the table. There's something under it, and it seems to connect to the device hovering above.

He hears the woman say something and looks back at her, "Pardon?"

"Lay down," she says, and after a moment he moves to lay his back down on the table. It's cold, but it's nice. Except for his head: he readjusts it so the sore spot doesn't lay on the hard surface, but at the sight of his father he looks back up at the square head of the machine. It's like a giraffe with its long, metal neck running down to the table. That means the table is its back. Ben is currently lying on a giraffe's back, and the table has legs. That means the giraffe as legs. He hums. It really is a giraffe. "Stay still."

Ben watches as the woman moves the giraffe's head over his chest and shoulders, and the bright light stays there for a set of clicks and then another set. The doctor turns her head, and he notices the black, tied up hair. He smiles at the messiness of the curls. It's like Mal's hair. The woman moves the giraffe's head parallel to the table, and Ben frowns as she says something. He watches her walk away and then stands, before he watches her talk to his parents. His mother nods with a smile, before she looks at him, "Come on, Ben."

After Ben walks towards them they leave the room, but when they make it back to that first hallway he frowns at the sight of them entering the first room again. He lets out a breath before walking in, and when he notices the seat next to the desk has been left open he looks at his father who merely nods down to it. Ben takes it and turns towards the chair next to him, facing his mother, "How much longer are we going to be here for?"

"We need to wait to see how serious your shoulder injury is, and in the meantime you will be checked for a concussion."

Ben eyes away for a second, "I thought I was already checked for a concussion."

"Well, yes," she thinks, "but because you were showing signs of having one, they wanted to go more in-depth. Remember?"

Ben looks away towards the desk, mumbling, "No." before he reaches for the wallet in his pocket and stands.

She sees him walk to the door, "Where are you going?"

"I'm thirsty," he frowns. "I wanted to get a drink."

She stands up, "Well, at least let me get the blood out of your hair." before she takes a wipe from her purse and cleans the back of his head. "You don't need to be walking around like this." She stops, and Ben turns to see her toss the wipe into the trash.

"Can I go now?"

She faces him, "Just be quick. The nurse could be here any moment."

Ben furrows his eyes at the word, before he abruptly leaves the room and heads down the hall to the vending machine. All of these doctors, and what? None of them was a nurse? He takes the wallet out and puts five dollars into the machine. He takes out the first Diet Coke and snaps it open, before he hears the sizzling bubbles and brings it to his mouth. He takes in a deep breath, but it quickly escapes before he brings the can to his mouth again. It's cold and crisp, and before he knows it the can is empty. Ben shakes the can, before he crushes it and tosses it into the recycling bin before going to grab the second one.

After he gets back into the room and sits in his seat his mother comments, "A soda? I thought you said you were thirsty. That's going to dehydrate you."

Ben glances at her, his eyes shifting, before he turns back to the soda on the desk and opens it. He smiles and takes a drink, before he rationalizes, "Well. I wanted a soda, so I got a soda and I'm having a soda."

"It can't be good for the healing process," she worries, but he doesn't even look at her. He just takes another drink, and he notices his father in his peripheral vision about to speak; however, before he can the door opens and Ben sees the blond nurse. She says something long and incomprehensible, so Ben goes for his drink again. She sits down and smiles as she talks to him. Her teeth are abnormally white, and he notices her pink lips sparkle. Are nurses even able to wear makeup? It must be Chapstick, he decides, before she stops speaking.

Ben turns back to his mother, "Where's Nurse Sinclair? We always get Sinclair."

"This is the Emergency Room," she frowns. "We get whoever is available."

He turns back to the now frowning nurse, and it takes him a minute to find the words, "What you said?" She offers a curious expression before starting to talk again, but he's no more able to understand her than the first time.

"Well. Go on. Answer her," his father prompts.

His mouth gapes as he narrows his eyes at him, "You can just fucking leave."

"Ben," his mother furiously whispers in disbelief.

Ben turns to her, gesturing at his father, "He's why I'm even here in the first place."

When she looks at Adam he frustrates, "I reached out for you. I tried to save you."

"I don't care," Ben shouts, "and I don't care that you didn't lay a hand on me. As far as I'm concerned, you might as well have pushed me down those stairs."

"How could you think that?" he breathes, and Ben notices the tears intrude his eyes. "After everything I've done for you— for this family." He shakes his head, "Don't you dare say I wasn't there for you."

"You're the reason I needed help in the first place," Ben exasperates, and before his father can retaliate his mother speaks up.

She quietly states, "Adam." and waits for him to look at her. "Maybe you should go home. It's getting late, and I can handle it from here."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he disagrees.

It takes her a moment to say, "You'll know where I am. It's not like I'm going anywhere." and her eyes shift. "You should know that by now."

He looks at her for a moment, "I didn't do anything."

"I know," she reassures, "but it's been a long, stressful night, and you have to be able to take care of yourself too."

He nods, "I love you." before eyeing between her and Ben. "Both of you."

She tries to smile, "I know." and then he stares at Ben.

Ben repeats, "I know." but his father still doesn't go.

"I love you," he says again.

Ben nearly rolls his eyes, "Yeah." before he frowns at his father. "I love you too."

His father nods with a relaxing breath before he exits the room, and Ben turns towards the nurse when she says something. His mother answers, and he looks between the two until the nurse talks again. He still can't understand her. He needs a drink. He reaches for the soda and brings to it his mouth, because after everything that's happened he just needs to take in that calming taste; however, soon it empties and he clanks it down onto the desk. He hears the nurse ask a question, and he brings a hand to his forehead as he looks away. It's quiet for a split second, but then she starts speaking again and Ben widens his eyes at her, "Would you just shut up already?"

"Honey," his mother tries to reason.

He swiftly turns towards her, "No! I can't even understand a word she's saying."

"What do you mean, you can't understand a word she's saying?" she quietly inquires.

Ben wets his lips, "I understand some words. It's just the sentences. The sentences make no sense."

"What? Just because she's speaking English?" his mother questions, and Ben looks away from her as he feels the tears intrude his eyes. "Is that why you wanted Sinclair?" He turns back to her, only offering a pained look. "I don't understand. You're speaking French just fine."

"Well, I learned French before grade school, didn't I?" he retorts with disdain, before he shakes his head, breathing heavily as the tears fall. "I was just speaking fluent English this afternoon. How could this be happening to me?" He hears the nurse ask something, and Ben watches as his mother hesitantly responds. He looks back at the nurse and watches as she finds a file folder, before she takes out a stapled group of papers and places it in front of him. He looks over the English words, and after a moment he sees a hand fold a couple of the papers over to the back to reveal the French assessment. He lets out a relaxing breath, and as he notices a pencil get set in front of him he hears her say the word circle. Ben glances up at her for a moment, before looks back down to eye over the questions and picks up the pencil to circle the answers.

* * *

\- So, the thing about my father is that when he calls me when the call is ending he will say that he loves me, and he doesn't let me hang up until I say I love him too... Love was always one of those words I didn't want to say if I didn't mean it, and with everything he's put me through I'm finding that word to have less value all of the time. If I get into a committed relationship one day, then maybe I can say it in a different language to give it the illusion of having meaning; however, the concept of saying something just because it's sociably correct has ruined a lot of words for me. Like sorry. When my mother says sorry for something, it literally means nothing because there's times when she uses it just to end an argument or attempt to make someone feel better. Like hugs. I hate hugs, but she insists they're healing. So, there's times when she hugs me when I'm upset, and then she acts like whatever problem there was no longer exists. Seriously, one time I was trying to settle something with her to make sure it didn't happen again, and after she hugged me I still wanted to solve the problem. She got mad and said I just wanted to argue. But, no. I'm pretty sure she's the one that wants to get into an argument, because if she didn't then she wouldn't be telling me on a weekly basis that I'm going to get attacked or raped or killed for walking in town and then on just about a daily basis tell me that I have no independence at all (which gets to the point of me thinking that if I'm going to die, then just let me die already. The more she tells me I'm going to die, the less I care if I do). She wonders why I'm not productive, when she counters that unproductiveness with the concept of her dying and questioning what I would do if she did. It's like, seriously? If I'm going to die, if she's going to die, then what's the point? What's the point in being productive? What's the point at all? For anything? I know this is technically abusive behavior, probably, but she's mentally ill and she's doing it because she loves me... So, it's not her fault. It's mine. It's always just mine... which leads us into our next chapter.


	126. I May Know That, but I Don't Believe It

**I May Know That, but I Don't Believe It**

 **(Day 91: Saturday Night)**

"Ben," Mal worries as she walks into his hospital room, and when she sits next to Belle she notices the sling for Ben's left arm, "What happened? Are you okay?" He stares at her for a moment, before he says something in French to his mother and she responds. Mal eyes between them, "What's going on?"

They look back at her, before Belle cautiously explains, "Mal." She pauses, "He has a concussion. He can't speak to you right now."

"What do you mean, he can't talk to me?" she disbelieves.

Belle takes a moment, "A concussion can cause slow response and memory loss. I don't know precisely why, but… he's having a hard time with English right now."

"Memory loss?" She tears up and hysterically laughs, "Forgetting an entire language is not memory loss."

"I know this must be hard for you," she sympathizes.

"No," Mal interrupts. "What's hard is having a conversation with your family and not knowing what the hell is going on. This—" Her eyebrows furrow as she slightly shakes her head, "How am I supposed to be able to spend time with him if I can't even ask when?"

"Concussions are temporary," she reassures. "All he needs is some rest."

Mal's eyes shift, "How did it happen?"

It takes a minute for Belle to say, "It appears he fell down the stairs."

"Fell?" Mal skeptically responds. "How exactly did he fall?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know all of the details."

"Can't you ask?" Mal persists.

"There's no need to bother him with that right now," Belle reasons, and then Mal sighs. "It's really important that his mind rests."

"How long?"

Belle offers an inquiring look, "What?"

"You said concussions are temporary," Mal hurries on. "How long is temporary?"

She glances down, "We think that he may have lost consciousness after the fall." before she faces her. "The doctors say that if that's the case, then it could last a couple weeks." Belle watches her look towards the ceiling, "But that doesn't mean that it will be this bad for that long." before Mal places a hand to her head. "He could be talking to you in basic English in just a matter of days."

Mal observes Ben's frown, the IV running from his arm to a bag of clear liquid, and the blue sling, "Just not today." before she stands from the chair to leave; however, she feels a hand grab hers, and when she turns around he's leaning forward.

His eyes shift before he says, "Stay." and Mal releases a breath before sitting back down. He leans back on the inclined bed and partially smiles at her, "Je t'aime." Mal laughs through a sad breath, before she shuts her eyes to his kiss hand and the tears run down her face.

* * *

When Evie sees Mal come back into the dorm she asks, "Hey. How's Ben?"

"I don't know," she painfully grins, and then Evie stands from the sewing machine. "There's something wrong with his arm, and he has a concussion." She starts to cry again, "But no one's telling me anything. Everyone's just speaking stupid French, and…" Evie walks up to her as Mal places a hand to her mouth, "Ben can't speak English."

"What are you talking about?" Evie questions. "He takes Pre-College English with me."

"His mother says it's temporary," Mal uneasily breathes, "but what if it isn't? I mean, how does someone forget an entire language?"

"Hey," Evie hugs her. "It's going to be okay." She clutches at the back of Evie's hair as she sobs. "It's going to be okay." Evie remembers what Ben had said, "We just have to believe."

* * *

The next morning when Evie hears her phone go off she takes it from the bedside table, smiling at the picture icon before accepting, "Hi, Ben."

He frowns, "Is Mal there?"

"Yeah," she answers before turning over to tap Mal on the shoulder. "Little dragon, Ben's here for you."

Mal turns over with squinted eyes, "Ben?" as she sees him on the phone.

He has furrowed brows, "You're in bed. With her."

"It's not like that," Mal starts to defend.

"Yeah," Evie starts to explain, pulling the phone back enough to get them both into frame. "Mal was just really upset last night because she was worried about you, and I talked with her until she fell asleep. We didn't even do anything."

Ben eyes between them, before he looks at Mal, "You were upset. Are you okay now?"

"I don't know," she unsurely replies. "Are you?"

"Better," he frowns, before he attempts to smile, "Didn't know what a spoon was that morning, so that was fun."

"This," Evie corrects.

"Pardon?" Ben inquires.

"You said that morning," Evie explains, "but wouldn't it have been this morning?"

When Ben doesn't speak Mal mentions, "So. Your arm."

He glances at the sling, "Right." before he looks back at them. "My shoulder. It's—" His eyes shift, "It's not broken. That's not it."

"Fractured?" Mal suggests.

Ben's frown deepens, "Maybe." and then he changes the subject. "So, your plans today?"

"I was thinking we would watch some movies," Evie turns to Mal, before she looks back at Ben, "Unless, of course, you want to see Mal in person in which case—"

"Evie," Ben loudly interrupts in frustration, before he slowly comments, "You're talking way too fast. And long. Stop it."

Evie frowns, "Sorry." before she turns to Mal. "Let me know how it goes."

After Evie leaves the frame Ben sighs, "Sorry."

"Are you really better?" Mal inquires, and Ben glances down, failing to speak. "If you can't talk…" He looks back at her. "Your mother said it's… just for now."

Ben wets his lips, "Can you text?"

"I know how."

He nods, "There's languages. Click it and it changes."

"Okay," Mal unsurely responds.

"I won't answer right away," he warns her. "I still have to… rest." She nods in understanding. "I have to go now." He smiles, "I love you."

She smiles back, "It was nice talking to you."

Ben nods before ending the call, and he looks up as his mother enters the room. "Was that Mal?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Maybe."

"You shouldn't be straining yourself," she concerns, before she sits by him in the chair.

He takes a stressed breath, "I know, but as much as I love your company, my friends need to know I'm okay. All they know is that there's pictures of me in the ER." He watches her look away from him. "What is it?"

She looks back at him, "There's reporters outside the hospital. They're asking for you." He frowns with a slight nod. "You know you can't speak to them. Your English can be taken out of context without the right words, and if your French gets translated—"

"It could be translated wrong," he finishes. "I know." He shakes his head, "Not that I can say anything anyway."

She hesitates, "What do you remember?"

"I was talking with father." He remembers his father clearly, but the words he had spoken are inaudible. "It was something about the council meeting, I think, but I don't remember." He stares past her, "He just kept coming closer and closer, and… like an idiot I just stood there." He shakes his head. "I could have walked back down the stairs. I mean, how hard would that have been, just to walk down the stairs?"

She eyes down for a moment, "I thought I heard something." and when she looks back up he can see the tears in her eyes. "In the kitchen, I thought I heard something, but the kettle was on and—"

"Mother," Ben softly interrupts. "This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it?" she questions. "It's not like I was out working. My job is to take care of this family: to calm your father and to keep you safe, but when you needed me I wasn't there."

"Mom," Ben begins, before he makes a noise in hesitation. "I know you don't want to hear this, but Father is going to be unwell whether you're there to help him or not." He looks into her eyes, "And honestly, I would rather have me fall down the stairs and get a cracked shoulder, rather than have you get involved, get knocked over the railing, and… not survive."

The tears fall to her cheeks, "You're my child. I should be keeping you safe."

"And you have been," Ben reassures, "in the best way you know how." He glances down, "I may not always feel like you care about me, but I know you do." He nods, "You love me. I know that." before he reaches for her hand and squeezes it. "I love you too."

She nearly smiles, but then she eyes down for a second, unable to keep herself from mentioning, "You know. This isn't entirely your Father's fault either." Ben rolls his eyes, before letting out a breath. "He's—"

"Ill," Ben finishes. "Yes. I know." He shakes his head and lets go of her hand, "Mother." He wets his lips, "If you really think father is ill, then shouldn't we bring in a professional?"

"He would never allow that," she whispers.

"Yeah. Because, he's paranoid," Ben irritably responds. "Is that part of the illness or is that just from being abandoned as a kid? Is he even really ill at all or is it just environmental? How are we supposed to know any of this, unless we ask for help?"

She evenly responds, "Honey. By now, I think you're well aware that he isn't in his right mind when he does these things. If he were, he wouldn't always be so regretful."

"He's not always regretful," Ben disputes. "Half of the time he just moves on like nothing ever happened."

"Because he's ashamed," she lets him know, before she takes his hand and he looks down at it. "Your father loves you. You have to know that."

Ben looks back at her, and it takes him a minute to find the words, "Just because I know he loves me, that does not mean I believe it."

She shuts her eyes and breathes, "Ben."

"True love is putting another's needs above yours," he interrupts. "Like how Audrey's father faced off with Maleficent to save Aurora, like when William captured the Evil Queen to find Snow White, and how Elsa was able to save herself by sacrificing her life for her sister's." He widens his eyes at her, "That's what true love is, Mother, so tell me now: when did Father ever put your needs before his?"

"How about when he let me go to save my father, even though it meant I would no longer be around to potentially break his curse," she immediately answers. "And need I remind you that something as rare and unprecedented as true love was not a requirement to break his curse? All he needed was old-fashioned love, a bond born out of the sheer intense connection with another."

"Unless the sorceress really meant true love," Ben argues, "and that's why the curse broke improperly."

"And whatever makes you think the curse broke improperly?" she half laughs in disbelief.

"How else could I be exhibiting signs of being a hybrid?" Ben points out.

"Have you been exhibiting signs?" she calmly asks.

"I don't know," Ben loudly states with furrowed brows. "You tell me."

She watches him take his hand from hers to bring it to his forehead, "Honey. Where is all of this coming from?"

He lets out a long breath before looking back at her with wide eyes, "There's a way for Father to be discreetly examined. You know there is."

She observes him for a moment, "Ben. I want to know what's wrong with your father as much as you do, but bringing a new person into this isn't going to help with his stress. At least when you're sick we have a family doctor for that, but we don't have a psychologist."

"I'm pretty sure psychologists can't take on patients of the same family either," Ben mumbles. "Something about not wanting to side with one patient and failing the needs of the other." He shakes his head, "Aside from group sessions, they're not really a family doctor."

"You're taking that psychology class," she remembers, and then she sees Ben frown up at her. "You must have been looking for something your father could have been ailed with."

Ben slightly nods, "Yes, but it's something I found after they taught us what a DSM is." He looks off in thought, "I bought one, and when I was looking through it I found something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder, but it's like he's almost too good to have it." He meets her eyes, "Are you sure he doesn't just have anger issues, that all of this could just be cleared up with anger management classes or some online course?"

"Ben," she bides time. "I've offered your father several tips and suggestions over the years, but he hasn't responded well to much of it at all."

"By not responding," Ben examines, "do you mean he wasn't listening or do you mean that it wasn't working?"

She glances down for a second before eyeing up at him, "I mean that he will forget to use those tips if I'm not around, and no. They don't always work either." He looks away from her. "Whatever illness he has, Ben, your father can't control it. Not completely."

"You don't even think this was his fault, do you?" Ben tears up.

It takes her a long moment to answer, "I believe it would not have happened had he not been there."

He swiftly turns to her with bared teeth, "That doesn't answer my question."

Her frown deepens, "You know how your father is. When he's unwell he can overact to the smallest things, and your defensiveness… it doesn't help matters." Ben huffs through a grin as he nods. "I'm not saying it's your fault, but it's not your father's either."

"Because he's ill?" Ben turns back to her and shakes his head. "He's not even diagnosed. You can't keep using that as an excuse for his behavior."

She gives him a look, "You need more compassion. He feels just as bad for what happened as you do."

"Compassion," Ben exasperates, before his mouth gapes in disbelief. "I could have died. Again. And you chose his side. Again."

"We're family," his mother disagrees. "There are no sides."

Ben eyes off and shakes his head, "Get out."

"Hey," she softly asserts. "I love you. You know that."

He frowns at her, "I may know that, but… right now." His voice cracks, "I don't believe it." as the tears fall from his eyes.

"Honey," she tries to reach for his hand, but he pulls it away."

"I said get out," he shouts, before she slowly straightens up in the chair, takes a moment, nods, and then stands to leave the room.

After he watches her leave and the door closes, he shuts his eyes and more tears fall as he releases a shaky breath. Ben opens his eyes and takes quick breaths, searching for his phone, before he takes it and swipes the screen to put in his password; however, when he gets to his home screen he stills. There she is with her bright smile and loose curls of brown, and he lets out a long breath before hurrying to his texts. He has over a dozen new messages, some from people he doesn't even know. He notices one from Coach Jenkins and taps on it, before he presses the French button to translate it. _Hey kid. How are you doing?_ Of course he would be worried, Ben mulls it over. He had always acted like a father to him. It's just too bad he's not. Ben scratches his head before beginning to type, but then he halts. What is he supposed to say? That he fell? All of those times that his parents never showed up to his games, how he had mouthed off about his father when he was kid, and now that he's hospitalized for something other than a fever what is he supposed to say? If anyone's going to have questions it would be him, and even though he did fall that just sounds like some lame excuse. Ben sighs, before he decides not to reply and go find Doug's texts.

When he gets to Doug's messages he notices the new one. _Heard you're in the hospital. What happened? Are you okay?_ Ben immediately responds, "I fell. I'm fine. You should sneak in some soda for me." A few minutes later he hears his phone and looks back down before translating it. _What do you mean, you fell?_ Ben types, "Down the stairs. I have a solid color bottle. You should sneak me some soda in it." He tentatively stares at the screen as he waits, and it feels like forever before he gets the next text. _No._ Ben shifts his eyes in annoyance before smiling, "Please." He sends it, but then he begins to worry. He compares his watch with the wall's. Thirty minutes have passed with no response. He picks up his phone again in panic, going back to plead some more, but he stops himself from sending it. This could be a test. Doug thinks he drinks too much soda, so he's testing him. Ben shakes his head, before he slaps a hand to his head and shuts his eyes. No. It's the bottle. Doug's looking for the stupid water bottle, but unfortunately Ben can't recall where he's placed it. He sighs, before he leans back and groans.

* * *

When Ben hears the door he opens his eyes and sees Doug. "Were you sleeping?"

Ben takes a minute, "Feelings. They aren't good for me." as he watches Doug sit down, and he grins at the black bottle before reaching for it.

Doug pulls it back, "How did you fall?"

He frowns at him, "The stairs."

"How?" Doug repeats.

Ben's eyes shift, "I'm a idiot." before he goes for the soda again.

He keeps it from him, "That's not an answer. And, by the way, vowels have an before it. Not a."

Ben looks down for a moment, "I don't speak English."

Doug scratches his nose, "And, uh, how did that happen?"

He reaches to the back of his head, fingers touching the stitches, "I fell."

"Was it your father?" Doug breathes before observing Ben's eyes look about the room. "It was. Wasn't it?"

"He didn't touch me," Ben simply states, before he looks back at Doug and opens his hand in front of him. "Bottle."

Doug sighs before handing it to him, "Three cans, but that's it. No more." before he sees the tube running from Ben's arm to the bag. "Morphine?" He sees Ben's left arm in the blue sling, "Is your arm broken?"

After Ben takes a drink he sets the bottle down to bring the hand to his shoulder, "Here… Cracked. It's cracked."

"You need morphine for that?"

"Morphine?" Ben furrows his brows, before Doug points to the hung-up bag and his eyes follow. "Ibuprofen. It's fever."

"Are you just cutting out all of your articles now?" he questions, but when Ben gives a confused look he glances down before pointing out the box of beef jerky, "Well. At least you have those."

Ben notices them, "This place don't have meat. Mom gets it when I'm here."

"Yeah," Doug think aloud. "Humans are technically frugivores and our digestive system isn't smooth like a carnivore's, so when we eat meat it can get caught in there and rot— especially if it isn't cooked enough." He adjusts his glasses, "There's actually studies that link it to cancer and shorter lifespans." before he sees Ben's blank stare. He stops and then slowly states, "Meat is bad for humans."

"Protein heals," Ben remembers.

"Yeah," Doug answers, "but protein isn't just meat." Ben fails to respond. "It's okay. You're a hybrid. It's probably fine." His eyes shift away from him, before he eyes down at the thin blanket over his legs. "So. You here a lot?"

Ben nearly chuckles before leaning back on the bed and clicking his drink open again, "I hate—" He tries to find the word but can't think of it, "This place." and then shakes his head.

"What's wrong?"

He continues to frown, "English. Life." and it takes him a while to find the last word. "Everything. Everything is wrong." His mother comes to mind and he feels his heart begin to quicken as the tears intrude his eyes once more, and he brings the bottle to his mouth to take a long gulp of the soda.

Doug forces the bottle down, "That's three cans. You know you're only supposed to have one a day, right? And I told you I wasn't getting any more." but then he sees Ben's blank stare and sighs. He meets his eyes, "Save some for later." before he takes his hand off of the water bottle and Ben stares down at it. "Later. You can have it later."

Ben frowns at him, "I want it now."

"Why?" Doug asks.

His eyes shift off as they well with tears, "I'm sad." before he lets out an unsteady breath. "She chose him again." He trails off into French and his speech quickens, "She always chooses him over me. It's always about how he's innocent, how he's done so much good, and that he loves us." He laughs, "Because he loves us, right? He did this, because he loves me." Ben lets out a heavy breath as he watches Doug go onto his phone. "And I always have to say I love him too," his eyes shift up. "I can never not say it, because if I don't he just keeps claiming he does, saying that me and Mother are everything to him, and that he would die for us."

After Doug adjusts the app's settings he presses the microphone, and he waits to read the translated words on the screen. Ben sees the microphone turn green and tries to pull himself together, "I don't understand why she can't just choose me. Why can't she just choose me, once?" He slightly shakes his head, "And she goes on about how kind and gentle he is like he's some fucking prince, but no. He's not kind, not as kind as her. And she's just completely deluded." Ben gulps, "She fell in love with a monster— a literal monster— and now I'm a hybrid, she's choosing him over me, and it's wrong. It's just all wrong." He takes long, shaky breaths as he watches Doug attempt to interpret the errors.

After several minutes Doug looks up at him and slowly questions, "Ben. I need to know. Did your father do this to you?"

Ben looks up towards the ceiling and lets out a breath, "No. It's not his fault. It's never his. It can't be, because he's ill. No. It's mine, because I'm right in my mind— apparently— and I just wasn't patient enough to wait it out. And he didn't even touch me, so there's that. He didn't push me. No. I could have walked back down those stairs. I mean, how hard is it to walk down some stupid stairs? No." He shakes his head, "I was being defensive, not careful enough, and just being a complete idiot. So, it's my fault." His eyes shift down and he mumbles, "It's always my fault… because my emotional control is the only thing I will ever have, and I don't have it." He reaches for his forehead and feels the warmness, "I'm tired."

After Doug finishes reading the paragraph he looks back up, "Ben." but when he does Ben's eyes are already shut, his head tilting to the side. Doug glances down, standing to his feet, and he presses the down button on the hospital bed to lower the incline and let Ben sleep.

* * *

\- Just two things to vent about here. So, there has been a few times where my mother has told me that my emotional control is the only thing I will ever have, which is another thing that's just not very encouraging. She hasn't said that recently, but whenever I bring up the fact that she told me that she just defends herself by going into a long essay of why it's true. Now, the second thing is about compassion. My mother always tells me that I need to have more compassion, because I hate that she uses Dad's illness as an excuse for everything he does, as if it's all just okay... Anyway, it's getting late, so I won't get into this one, but yeah. I informed you about which things I have taken from my life to put in these three chapters. I hope you've enjoyed the context.

\- Do let me know what you think of Ben's issues displayed in these chapters. Reading comments is interesting.

 **Next Up** : I'm not sure. By the looks of things Doug is going to update Mal about Ben, Ben has his family dinner, and then he gets interrogated by teachers all day long... Doug may or may not go to Fairy Godmother. I want him to, but I didn't write that down, I don't think, so I may have to rearrange the chapters.


	127. You Don't Know

**You Don't Know**

 **(Day 93: Monday Morning)**

"Hey," Doug comments as he sits down at the cafeteria table where Mal and her friends sit, before they all eye each other and Mal looks at Doug.

She offers an uncomfortable smile, "I don't mean for this to sound mean or anything, but Ben's not here. Don't you have to get back to your pack of science geeks or something?"

He tightly purses his lips and nods, before he eyes up in thought, "Actually, I always had a strong belief that making friends in high school wasn't worth it, because studies show that those friends don't usually last. I just know Ben, because he's my roommate."

"And yet you're not choosing to sit alone now," Mal sweetly says before smiling. "We corrupted you."

He nods again, "I think that might be a very good possibility." before he frowns and adjusts his glasses. "Seriously, though. We need to talk about Ben."

Mal frowns, "What about him?"

Doug glances over the four of them before informing, "I visited him yesterday, and the things he was saying… I'm concerned."

"Why are you concerned?"

Doug takes a breath, "Look. The translator I was using wasn't great or anything, but—" He tightly closes his lips before looking over them, "Has he told any of you about his father?"

"What about his father?" Mal questions.

"Anything," Doug asserts. "Did he talk to you at all?"

Mal hesitates, "Well, there was that night that he was upset and you got me to comfort him, but I was pretty sure I told you about that already."

"Tell me again," he insists.

Mal runs her nails through her hair, "Ben didn't say much. It was just that his father doesn't think he can run the kingdom properly. He's hard on him."

"Anything else?"

Mal gives him a look, "What do I have to do, replay the entire conversation? I told you the gist of it." She hears him sigh, "Why? What's going on?"

It takes a minute for Doug to say, "I think Ben's father might be hurting him."

"What do you mean, hurting him?" Mal indifferently responds.

"Just somehow," Doug frustrates. "Look." He takes a breath, "I think that Ben's in the hospital right now because of his father."

"Did he tell you that?" Jay jumps in.

"It was implied," Doug defends.

"But you said the translator wasn't great," Carlos comments. "Unless he actually said it, how can you know that's what he meant?"

"He was really upset," Doug desperately answers. "He said his father wasn't nice, and even though he insisted his father didn't push him down those stairs, I can still tell he feels like it's his father's fault."

It's quiet before Mal inquires, "Do you have any reason to believe this kind of thing as happened before?"

"Yes," Doug immediately responds. "I've seen it with my own eyes, his father ripping up his speech."

"He ripped up his speech," Jay unenthusiastically replies. "He didn't throw a knife at him? Poison him? Starve him if he didn't do what he was told? He just tore up a piece of paper?"

Doug sighs, "Look. You had to be there. It was worse than that."

"And I think you need to spend a day on the Isle," Jay counters before shaking his head. "People here cry over the stupidest stuff."

"You really have nothing else to go on?" Mal frowns, and then Doug sighs. "Ben's father seems like a stern guy with high expectations and hard rules, but that's not always a bad thing."

"He's afraid of him," Evie remembers, before she looks at Mal. "Ben is afraid of his father." She slightly shakes her head at Doug, "But that doesn't mean he's hurting him."

"Abuse doesn't have to just be physical," he reminds her before turning to the rest of them. "Something is wrong. I know it."

Mal eyes down for a second, "Let's say his father is hurting him." before she challenges Doug with raised, scrunched eyebrows. "What's your plan?"

"We tell someone," he immediately responds.

"And then what?" Mal questions.

"What do you mean, and what?"

Evie turns toward him, "Telling people things have consequences." and then he faces her. "Do you really want Ben to get punished for something you did?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but Mal interrupts before he can, "You report it, right? Somehow law enforcement gets involved?"

"Yes," Doug nods. "There would be an investigation."

"Which takes time," Mal assumes. "How long?" Doug fails to speak, and she glances down, "Because, if it takes too long, Ben could be dead by the time it ends."

"I'm sure there would be procedures. Precautions," he thinks up.

"And what if there's a cover up?" Mal remembers how she had come forward and Hook was assumed innocent, "Is Ben really supposed to live with his father after all that?" She muses it over, "I'm sure he would be mad, that a family member betrayed him. Because, he gave him life, and parents need to be respected for all of the good they've done for you."

Doug shakes his head at her, "You're his girlfriend. You can't really be saying that you want to just stand by and let this happen to him."

"If this is happening," Mal evenly responds, "which we don't even know if it is or not, then Ben is a lot safer if we don't get involved."

Doug stares at her for a moment, "I don't believe you. We need to help him. You have to want to help him. You care about him." He furrows his brows and sadly asks, "Don't you?"

"Ben is safer," Mal leans forward and slowly repeats, "if we don't get him in trouble." Doug continues to stare in disbelief, so she looks about the table, "Who here thinks it's a good idea to report Doug's suspicions about Ben's father?"

When none of them raise their hand Jay frowns, "If Ben really is in trouble, then he knows how to handle it. We can't just barge in when we don't even know what's going on."

"We know what's going on," Doug disclaims. "Ben is afraid of his father, he's acting like it's his father's fault that he's in the hospital, and his father has a history of using intimidation to get what he wants. That's how he became king in the first place."

Mal gives him a look, "Does Ben's father hit him?"

"He doesn't need to be hit for it to be—"

"Just answer the questions," Mal sternly interrupts.

It takes a moment for Doug to answer, "I don't think so."

"Does his father lock him up somewhere when he does something wrong?"

Doug opens his mouth before shutting it again, "I don't know."

"Does his father keep weapons in the castle?" Mal continues.

He sighs, "I don't know."

"And if Ben is getting hurt by his father," she considers, "then why would he keep putting himself into situations where he's with his father, like those family dinners?" Doug shakes his head. "And if Ben's father is hurting him, does that mean he's hurting Belle too? Has he maybe threatened to kill her if Ben tells anyone about anything?"

Doug unsurely answers, "I don't think he—"

She interrupts with slow words, "You don't know." before she takes a drink of her milk. "If there's nothing to worry about, all we will end up doing is ruin Ben's family's reputation, which I know is very important to them for some reason." Mal meets Doug's eyes, "And if this just so happens to be true, then our involvement could get Ben dead. Do you want that?"

"Of course not," Doug's frown deepens.

"Good," Mal stares him down. "Then you will learn to shut up and mind your own business like the rest of us."

Jay comments, "If Ben really needs help, he'll ask for it."

"You don't know that," Doug mumbles.

"Yes, I do," Jay confidently retorts, "because when I really needed help I asked, and that's something I never thought I would do."

"And Ben has plenty of people to go to if he needs to," Evie adds on, before Doug looks at her. "Whether it's just for comfort, someone to talk to, or someone to stand by his side while he fights whatever is going on, we're all going to be here for him." She smiles before turning her head, "Even Carlos." He merely answers with a nod.

"This still feels wrong," Doug whispers.

Mal takes a moment, "A lot of things can be wrong." before they face each other. "Sometimes there's just nothing you can do about it that won't make it worse."

* * *

After he knocks on the door he hears Ben answer, "Come in, Doug."

He slowly opens the door and sees Ben sitting at his desk by the large window, "How did you know it was me?"

Ben's eyebrows furrow in thought, "I don't know."

Doug shuts the door, "Maybe the knock?" before he walks towards him.

He eyes the ornate blue and gold rug, "I don't know. Maybe."

He sits in a nearby armchair, and when Ben faces him he asks, "How are you doing?"

Ben glances out the window, "I hoped it would be better. Three days and… I have to go to school Monday. I have to go to class."

Doug breathes, "Will you even understand the teachers?"

He turns back to Doug, "Understand?"

"I don't know a shorter word than that," Doug sighs, before he scratches his head. "Know, maybe?"

"Will I know the teachers?" Ben slowly rephrases, and he watches as Doug shifts in his seat. "That's not what you mean."

He looks at him, "Will you know what they say?" and Ben turns away from him.

"I have papers to look at," he excuses himself.

"Hold on. I came here for a reason." Ben frowns back at him, and he hesitates, "I wanted to give you time to rest. I need to hear this right."

"Hear what right?" Ben monotones.

Doug observes him for a moment, "I just… You talked about your father last time." and then Ben looks off for a second. "Does he hurt you?"

Ben tiredly meets Doug's eyes, "He never touched me."

His green eyes grow sadder, "I don't know if that answers my question." and Ben turns his eyes to the floor. "Ben." He looks back up. "You can tell me what's going on."

"Can I?" he distrusts.

"Of course, you can," Doug immediately responds, and he watches as Ben shocks into silence. "Look. If something is going on…" He lets out the breath, remembering what the others had said, before he finishes, "I need to know if it's safe for you to tell someone."

"I'm safe," Ben sternly eyes him, before his eyes shift. "No one needs to know."

"So, there is something to know?" Doug hurries, and Ben just barely catches the words. "Tell me."

Ben shakes his head, "There's nothing to tell."

He quietly looks at him for a moment, "I don't believe that."

Ben turns back to his desk and drinks from the soda can, "I have papers to look at."

"We need to talk about this," Doug insists. "You can't just hide in your work." He doesn't respond. "Ben." He still fails to turn around, and Doug takes a calming breath before slowly stating, "I'm worried about you." but he still doesn't speak. "Just tell me one thing: are you really afraid of your father?"

Ben looks down at the bright light that covers his papers, before he whispers, "I'm afraid of a lot of things." He moves his thumb up and down the wooden pencil, "I'm afraid of telling Mal things. I'm afraid of getting sick. I'm afraid of dying." and the faster his thumb moves along the pencil, the more yellow paint his nail scrapes off of it. "I'm afraid of being what I am." He swipes the paint dust off of his papers and dark desk. "Some things just can't be changed."

"I would like to change this," Doug quietly responds. "All you have to do is come see Fairy Godmother with me. She can keep your father from the school. She can be there when you tell the police."

It takes a minute for Ben to comment, "Being worried about what your son does and how he lives isn't a crime."

"Verbal abuse is," Doug asserts. "Emotional abuse is. If he tells you the same bad things all the time, I'm sure that would be a crime."

"They're just words."

"They affect the way you feel and work," Doug counters. "As king, that's a big deal."

It takes a second for him to think, "Right. I'm king. I can't make it a crime for someone to tell me I'm not good at it."

"Ben," Doug begins.

"They think I'm a child. I can't make them right."

"Who thinks that?" Doug questions.

"Everyone," Ben says, before he finishes off his soda, shakes the can, and goes to open the next one.

"You act older than you are," he reassures. "You have for as long as I've known you."

"Doesn't matter," Ben mumbles. "They think I'm a child. I can't act like one."

"So, you won't turn your father in?" Doug softly disapproves.

He continues to frown, "I don't know if there's anything to turn him in for."

Doug shakes his head, "You've taken all of the classes. You have to know better than anyone. I know you have to know something is wrong."

Ben turns back to him, "Just because something is wrong, doesn't make it a crime." before he nods to the door. "Now, go."

"Ben," he tries to reason.

"I can't do this," Ben interrupts. "I have papers. You need to go."

Doug slowly nods, "Alright." before he stands from the chair. "I'm here if you need someone." He turns to walk back to the door, looking back and seeing Ben turn away from him, before he leaves the room and clicks the door shut behind him.

* * *

\- **DaniFan3000** You make a great point about how the barrier would probably go down if Fairy Godmother dies. Now, as we can tell from the movie, Jane is terrible at magic (if you remember the scene where she had the wand and sparks where flying everywhere, and then when Mal had the wand the magic was stable). Now, maybe that was more due to Jane's lack of practice, but even if it is I feel like in this world— where Mal would be a potential future queen of the country— Fairy Godmother would be teaching Mal how to keep the barrier up... although, with how many times Mal attempted suicide I wouldn't recommend that. Plus, she's fresh out of the Isle, so because of potential loyalty to its people there's no way they would risk teaching her that any time soon. And, yes, you're right about Adam having his own personal biases against magic. Of course he would want it outlawed after all of those years he spent as the beast (there's a film theory on this... either by SuperCarlinBrothers or Wotso Videos. I don't remember who. It's been a while. But, anyway, Adam would have been ruffly 12 years old at the time that he was transformed into the beast. Now, you can say that no one aged while under the curse, but I would argue that while the "inanimate objects" didn't age that certainly an animal would). So, that being said, Adam really hates magic, and that indeed can extend to magic users; however, for the purposes of this fanfic I am using the term enchantress to describe a witch who has fairy magic. So, Adam may hate magic because of what he had to go through, but I'm thinking that he might hate witches more. This would just be because a witch's abilities— such as sensing auras, hearing thoughts, or seeing the past or future— can make it hard for them to mind their own business. Like, seriously, telepathy is really horrible. You could just be sitting in math class and then you hear the girl behind you having problems with a math question, so you turn around and try to help her with that specific question (keep in mind that all of her other friends are gone that day for some reason) and then she sasses, "Was I talking to you? Uh, no."... Of course, then again you could be in German class with absolutely no knowledge about sports, be asked an extra credit question about how many stadiums for a specific sport there are in Germany, and then you hear a German word. At this time it's the beginning of your second year of German, you're relearning your numbers so you can't recall what that word is in English, so you answer the question using the German word you heard— and congrats! You got it right! However, you could also find yourself trying to do homework during lunch, and this one guy just keep literally saying "I need to do that, and then I have to do that." without even specifying what the "that's" are. So, you tell him to be quiet again, and you hear him say that he thought he was, but he just does not stop talking! Now, all of sudden you hear him yell about how he forgot he had a knife in his locker, so you look around the cafeteria with hope that he's going to go away and not bother you... No such luck. It's like no one even heard him. They were just all too caught up in their own little worlds, but you still want him to stop bothering you. So, you call over a teacher, tell the teacher that the guy has something he wants to tell him, but when he says he doesn't you tell the teacher about the knife yourself... Now, this gets him into trouble, and since he's friends with your friend, you're friend asks you why you got him into trouble. You excuse it by saying he yelled it and no one noticed, and after your friend investigates further they find out that the guy never actually said anything aloud and that you were indeed just hearing his thoughts... Now, you have to ask the guy in person, and when he confirms that you can't help but say just how sorry you are. (If anyone has had any experiences that you think could be telepathy or the like, then feel free to leave your stories. I would love to read them.)... not that any of these things ever happened to me. I am just sooo creative, ya know? Lol. No. Really. I'm just going to be honest here. Those three stories completely happened to me... two of the three are suspect as to whether it was actually telepathy or not, but I'm just assuming at this point that everyone has had some kind of experience like that... Am I wrong?... I'm wrong, aren't I? I just sound crazy now.

-Posted: 11/14/2018


	128. Do You Have a Problem With That

\- **Just a reminder** : this is a mature fic and may contain mature content (and because I live in America, obviously I never refer to violence as mature content. By mature content, I mean that there may be suggestive content— as in sex). If you are bothered by that kind of thing, I recommend that you skip the last few paragraphs of the second half of the chapter... But I still recommend that you read it to get the full story.

* * *

 **Do You Have a Problem With That**

 **(Day 99: Sunday Evening)**

Evie smiles as she opens the door, "Hey, Doug."

"Oh, uh. Hey." He adjusts his glasses and clears his throat, "Mal's not here, is she?" and he notices her smile drop. "I just need to talk to her."

"It's about Ben," she assumes.

"Well, uh," Doug shrugs.

Mal opens the door wider, "What about Ben?"

When she faces him Doug uneasily says, "I just thought I should tell you." before he purses his lips at her slight change of clothes. "I don't think you should be going to Ben's family dinner tonight."

"If you're still worried about his father," Mal asserts, "I can take care of myself."

"No." Doug breathes, "It's not that."

"Then what?" Mal irritably prompts.

He scratches his head, "It's just." before he holds onto his arm. "You see, with Ben's concussion and everything…" He sighs, "French is just easier for him, Mal. And he shouldn't be stressing his mind right now."

She doesn't blink, "So, just because I don't know French I can't be with my boyfriend?"

"Please, understand," Doug pleads, and Evie looks between the two of them as he continues. "His parents know French. When he's around people who know French, he should be able to speak French."

When Mal fails to respond Evie questions, "What does Ben think about this?"

Doug looks away from her for a moment, squinting his eyes, "Ahh, he doesn't really know." and then she gives him a look. "Ben's bad at taking care of himself," Doug defends, before he turns to Mal. "He would never want to make you feel unwanted, but he's king living in what may be a dangerous situation. It's important that he recovers from this as fast as possible."

"His mother said it would only take a couple weeks," Mal sternly informs.

Doug is quiet before pointedly informing, "A brain injury is just like any other injury. The more stress that gets put on this, the longer it will take to heal." He takes a deep breath before whispering, "Please. Just leave Ben alone tonight."

"You're not worried about his father?" Evie addresses.

It takes him a moment to answer, "It's just dinner, and he's coming back to school right after. He's done this before. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Who are you trying to convince here?" Mal crosses her arms with a raised eyebrow. "You or us?"

"Probably me," he mumbles.

Mal lets her arms fall back to her side, "Okay." and then he faces her. "I'll let Ben speak French at his French dinner with his French parents." She places her thumbs in her pockets and looks at Evie, "It's not like they ever not speak French when I'm there anyway."

"I'm confused," Doug slowly comments, and then Mal looks back at him. "Are you or are you not going tonight?"

Mal frowns, "Don't worry. I won't." before she steps away to shut the door.

As it closes, Evie smiles, "Night Doug." and then Mal places her hands on her shoulders and takes a step forward, causing Evie to walk backwards until her legs hit the bed and she falls back onto the bed. She watches as Mal unbuckles the black belt at her waist, "What are you doing, M?"

She grins, "I have to get heat from somewhere." before she unzips the shirt. "And you're here, and Ben's not." Mal kisses her for a long moment before whispering, "Do you have a problem with that?"

Evie can't help but laugh, "Uh, no. I, uh, don't."

Mal slides the leather off from her shoulders, "Good." before Evie sits up for Mal to pull it up over her head and throw it across the room.

* * *

"You can't be serious," Carlos frowns, as Chad holds up the black mini dress with floral lace running down the arms.

"What?" he grins. "You don't like it?"

He gives him an annoyed look, "No. I don't."

"Come on. Just try it," he attempts to charm.

"No," Carlos loudly objects.

Chad frowns and then leans back in his chair, "I'll give you an extra ten dollars." and at Carlos's lack of response he tosses the velvet dress to him. "And give me a nice show while you're at it."

Carlos mumbles, "I'm not doing that."

"Why not?"

"Because," he immediately answers, but then his sentence drops.

"You're not insecure?" he smiles.

"Maybe," he frowns, before he lets out a frustrated breath. "I'm scrawny."

"You know, a simple diet and exercise program could help with that?" he informs.

It takes a minute for Carlos to response, "I think it's more of just diet." before he glances at the floor. "I've gone so long without having food around, now it's just…" He looks back up at him, "Even an average amount can make me uncomfortably full now."

Chad nods in thought, "The health store has stuff specifically for weight and muscle gain." before he shrugs. "It won't bulk you up that much if you aren't lifting weights, but it should help you not be so skinny. I can take you sometime."

"Really?" he surprises.

"Yeah. Why not?" Chad looks him up and down, "Now. Back to the show." He sees him frown again. "I'll give you another ten dollars for it."

"So," Carlos slowly makes sure, "I would be getting twenty extra dollars for all of this?"

"Yes." Carlos looks back down at the soft dress in his hands, before he sets it on the bed to take off his hooded t-shirt and black jeans; however, when he reaches for the dress he hears Chad make a disapproving noise and looks at him. "All of it." Carlos watches his finger point to his boxes, so he takes them off and hurries to throw them at him before taking the dress. He's able to get his head through just fine; however, his fingers keep getting caught in the lace as he tries to pull his arms through, and even once his hands are freed he finds it tight and has to straighten out the material.

When his shoulders feel less constrained he goes to pull the dress as far down as he can, but it just barely reaches the middle of his thighs and his appendage can still be seen. He looks at Chad and complains, "It's a little short."

He tries to hide his wide grin with closed lips, "I don't see any problems." and when Carlos doesn't respond he spins his finger before pointing, "The bed." Carlos looks over to his left, before he goes to lay his torso on the bed, stretches his arms past his head, and listens to Chad's footsteps coming near him. He leans over him, and he can feel the warm breath on the side of his face as Chad whispers, "You can tell me to stop at any time."

"I know," Carlos whispers back, before he hears the zipper and feels the velvet move up to bunch at his lower back.

* * *

\- Does anyone know Arabic? I know that in other languages towns can have endings like: ton, ville, stead, or just have the word 'city' or 'town' as a second word in the full town's name. Does anyone know what similarities there tend to be for Arabic town names, like endings or if they tend to be named after something or someone? I know that in America a lot of towns and streets are named after people, and I assume it would be like that for most other places and/or languages; however, when I tried to translate 'town' and 'city' into Arabic, the letter version of it was really long with dashes and such. So, I probably wouldn't have asked this question, but I'm going to have to come up with some town names at some point in something else I'm writing and I don't want to seem lame or uneducated when I do.

-Also, if you look me up on Wattpad I have a story in which you can comment a creative writing prompt and then I would do my best to use that information to create a short story. Last time I checked no one has prompted me anything, so there's no actual chapters yet; however, the idea behind that is if I ever get blocked or bored, then you could comment something you would like to see me write and then I would try it to the best of my ability... Don't know if anyone is interested or not, but the option is there if anyone is... Also, I don't think I mentioned it there, but because all of the stories I have posted so far are in third person, if you wanted to see me write in first person you could add that specification to your prompt... Like I said, though. That's on Wattpad, so please prompt it there. It's not fanfiction, so I wouldn't be able to post it here.


	129. I Fell

**I Fell**

 **(Day 99-100: Sunday Night – Monday Morning)**

"So, eh." Ben and his mother look at his father as he motions with the fork, "How's the shoulder?"

Ben frowns at him for a moment, "Fine." before he looks back at his plate. "It's fine."

"So, it doesn't hurt or anything?" he makes sure.

"Only when I move it," Ben softly responds before using his fork to pick up a clump of cheesy smashed potatoes.

"At least you heal fast," his mother cheerfully reminds him.

"Yeah," Ben mumbles.

"Although, you should wear it longer than that," she thinks aloud, "just to keep up appearances and such."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Ben whispers, before he sets down the fork to get his bangs out of his eyes. "Whose idea was this?"

"What ever do you mean?" his mother asks.

"Rare steak and cheesy potatoes," Ben pointedly looks at her. "It must be a real special occasion for you to go against your well-cooked meat policy."

"We're just trying to make things easier for you," she tries to reason.

"You know what would make things easier?" Ben loudly counters. "Being able to use my damn arm. You know how hard it is to button pants with one hand?"

"Honey," she sighs.

Ben's father inserts, "We can't change what happened."

"Exactly," Ben furrows his brows at him. "It happened, and making me my favorite foods won't change that."

"What do you want me to do?" he questions. "Go down on my knees and hail you? Oh, King Ben I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Ben's mouth gapes as he stares at him for a minute, before he reminds him, "If it weren't for you this would've never happened. All I want is for you to take some responsibility."

"It's not my fault you fell," his father defends. "I tried to save you. All you had to do was take my hand. If you did, then it wouldn't have happened."

"Well, what can I say?" Ben softly comments, "I guess I just trusted the stairs more than I trusted you."

"Ben," his mother intervenes.

"No," Ben quietly rejects, before he meets her eyes. "Like Father said." He wets his lips, "I fell. There's nothing else to it." before he lowers his eyes to the table. "May I be excused?"

She notices his plate, "I want you to finish your dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Ben continues to frown, and when he sees her hesitation he explains, "The steak was enough."

When she still doesn't answer his father says, "You're excused." and after facing him for a second Ben stands from the table to get out of the room.

* * *

"Nice to have you back, Ben," Mr. Turner smiles.

"Good to be back," Ben manages.

He eyes the blue sling, "That must be one nasty injury. How did you get it?"

"Oh, that," Ben glances down at it. "I fell."

"You fell?" The history teacher smiles, "Not from walking the plank, I presume?"

Ben nearly laughs, "No. Uh, stairs." before he smiles at him. "Wasn't watching where I was going."

"Ah. I see," he says before picking a piece of paper up from his desk. "Well, I suppose you will be needing your assignments for Atlantic Studies."

When Ben takes the paper he nods, "Thank you." before his eyes shift in recollection. "There was an, uh, a listening option. Right?"

"Yes." The teacher takes a textbook from his desk and opens it, before he points at the back of the cover, "You just go to this website, and you can listen to it there."

"And they have it in other languages, right?" Ben slowly inquires.

"They do," Mr. Turner unsurely answers, "but I wouldn't recommend it. Especially for science classes. The terminology doesn't always translate right."

Ben frowns, "Terminology?"

"Well, you know, the vocabulary," he explains, but then he frowns at Ben's blank expression. "The words that you need to define." Ben fails to respond. "The dictionary?"

"Oh, uh." Ben awkwardly smiles, "Right."

"Ben," his brown eyes narrow in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ben gulps. "I just, uh, forgot." His eyes trail off, "I guess." before he wets his lips and walks backward. "Thank you for the homework."

"Are you not staying for class?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, "Well. Um. I just thought I should do these first." He holds up the paper of assignments and attempts to smile, "My time would be better doing that than… not knowing what you're talking about, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps," Mr. Turner nods, before he holds up a finger, "But I expect you back in class tomorrow. Understand?"

Ben frowns at the last word. It's used a lot. He should look it up. "I will be in class tomorrow," he reassures.

* * *

When Ben walks up to the psychology teacher Mr. Conrad smiles, "Good Afternoon."

"Good afternoon," Ben smiles back.

"You worried a lot of people around here," he lets him know.

Ben frowns, "Yes. I guess I would have."

"What exactly happened?" the balding man inquires through square glasses.

"I fell," Ben softly answers.

"You fell?" the teacher skeptically questions.

"Yes." Ben stands straighter, "My homework?"

Mr. Conrad opens a drawer to his desk and rifles through the papers, before he hands him the full sheet and Ben's frown deepens at the long list. "Missing a week can be a big deal for a class like this." He clasps his hands, "Assignments are usually docked after a week of incompletion, but I will give you a month to hand these in."

Ben gets a heavy, sinking feeling, "I have a month to do these?"

"Thirty days," the professor clarifies. "After that I will have no choice but to take off twenty-five percent of the points you receive from it." He notices Ben's expression, "Is something wrong?"

Ben immediately shakes his head hard, "No. I will get it done."

The teacher smiles, "That's what I like to hear." and when Ben begins to retreat to his desk he continues. "I'm here if you have any questions." Ben nods with a frown, before he turns around and walks to his desk in the front row.

* * *

Evie laughs, "This translator is horrible." before she notices Ben's concerned frown. "Don't worry. I can still understand you."

"Good," he lets out a breath of relief. "I feel like I'm going to need all of the help I can get in this class." He tries to smile with his teeth, "Like notes, for instance."

She glances down at the app before giving him a look, "My notes are in English. How is that supposed to help you?"

Ben takes a moment, "You can scan it in the library, and then you can use the writing program to translate it. Just make sure to give me both a French and English copy in case there's an error."

Evie glances down before nodding, "Okay. But what about your other twelve classes?"

"First off," Ben smiles in defense, "I do not have that many classes. And, well…" He frowns, "Aziz is going to help me with Intro to Sociology."

Evie frowns in hesitation, "Ben. I know you're not a… You like to be alone. Do you even know anyone in your other classes?"

He lifts a shoulder, "I know people."

"You know what I mean," she asserts, and then his eyes lower. "How are you supposed to get through this when you're practically all alone?"

"I'm not all alone," Ben counters.

"Hence the word 'practically'," Evie sighs before shaking her head. She rephrases, "How are you going to get through this when you can't always have someone there for you?"

"I've been through plenty of things alone," Ben reasons. "This is no different."

"Ben," the brown haired teacher calls out, and then he and Evie look at her. "This is an English classroom. Speak English, please."

Her words are fast, but her intent was clear: English. She wants him to speak English, "Yes, Mrs. Rosenstein."

"I don't suppose you would like to declare the main theme of this novel?" she asks.

Evie notices Ben's blank expression and excuses for him, "He was gone last week. He's probably not far enough to know what it is."

"Very well," the instructor accepts. "Ms. Evie Queen, can you tell me what a theme of this book is?"

"It's about perseverance over unbeatable odds," she immediately answers. "The soldier had to complete a seemingly impossible mission, just like his son had to find a way to pay for his education and the mother had to fight the cancer she'd been diagnosed with."

Mrs. Rosenstein nods, "That's one theme that can be taken from this." before she turns to the board and writes a single word. "Another one is faith." She turns back to the class, "The mother has to have faith in her doctors, the father has faith in his commanding officer, the son has to learn to have faith in society, and as the biblical text throughout this novel would suggest, each and every one of them has faith in God and His plan for them." She pauses, "So, yes, they had perseverance, but that determination had to be fueled by something. In this case it was their faith in the Lord. Other sources of faith may be that of family, friends, or in the good of helping others." The teacher eyes over the classroom, "At your age this may be the most important thing for you to have. When you're pressured to succeed, to find yourselves, and to make a decision as to what you want to do with your lives, it can be hard to find the determination to persevere. Some people give up— some forever— but with faith you can find the will to get through anything." She picks up a stack of quarter sheets and divides the stack amongst those in the front row, before they pass them to the people behind them. "So, as an exercise, I would like you to write something you have faith in, and make sure to put your names on it. This will count towards your participation points."

When Ben receives the blank piece of paper he looks at Evie, and she whispers, "Write your name and something you have faith in."

"Faith?" Ben repeats.

"Something you believe in that wills you to continue on," she explains, and after a minute of thought he understands.

Ben writes his name in the corner, but as he moves his pencil to write his answer he halts. What does he have faith in? Had he been asked this question just the week prior, he would have written down his mother or friends; however, the mere knowledge that his mother hasn't been there for him this last week has hit him hard, and he hasn't even had enough faith in his friends to really tell them anything. Not that he has any words to tell them anyway; all he has is this numb feeling, like he should have known, and yet whenever he sees his mother that pang cuts deeper, as he can't help but hope he will get her back. Right now, though, there's just this distance. It doesn't matter how close they are or how she acts as if nothing's changed. She's still so far away, and when he had sat at the table with her the night before, it felt like it would always be that way.

"Ben," the teacher says, and then he looks up at her. "Have you finished?"

"Uh," he unsurely answers, before he frowns back at the nearly empty paper. He still can't think of anything, and now that he has less than seconds to come up with something his mind is blank. "I need a minute."

"You've had fifteen," she lets him know, and he swiftly turns his head back up in shock. "Class ends in five minutes. I expect it on my desk by then."

Ben merely nods, but when he sees her walk away he notices several concerned stares. Even Evie seems a little worried, before he asks, "What did you put?"

"You're not copying my answer," she asserts.

He sighs, "I just want to know."

She gives in, "Mal."

"Mal?"

"Yeah." Evie glances down, "She's the best thing in my life." before she faces him. "So long as I have her, everything's going to be okay. You know?"

Ben turns back to his paper and wets his lips. He places a hand to his forehead. With all of the time he's spent in the hospital over the years, this shouldn't be so hard. That's it. That's all he's ever told himself. He has faith that he won't get sick, or at least die from it, because it's going to be okay. It has to be. _I'm going to be okay._ He writes it down, and when the bell rings he goes over to hand the paper to the teacher; however, before he can leave she starts talking to him.

"This is an interesting answer," she comments, before her grey eyes look up at him. "Would you like to explain it?"

"It's just something I think sometimes," he quietly responds.

"In what situations?" He fails to answer, so she rewords, "When do you think it?"

He hesitates, "If…" His eyes move towards the door, before he faces her, "Sometimes I get sick. Or, there's times when… when things get hard."

"Hard?"

He makes a disgruntled noise before attempting to clarify, "Like… when my father and me talk sometimes."

"I," she corrects.

"What?"

"If you take your father out of the sentence, the proper way to say it would be 'when I talk' and so its full sentence would be 'when my father and I talk', not 'when my father and me talk'."

Ben's quiet for a moment, not understanding, before he moves on, "Okay."

"When you say talk with your father," she inquires, "do you mean it would be hard because it's more of a disagreement?"

She talks too fast for him to understand, but Ben hears that it's a question. "Sure."

"If you don't mind me asking, what would those disagreements be about?"

There's that word again. He doesn't remember what it means, but he can't pull out his phone to translate it. If they knew he was still this unwell, they would probably send him home. He unsurely points a thumb to the door, "I should really go."

She nods, "Okay." before she smiles. "Have a nice day."

Ben tries to smile back, "Have a nice day." but it instantly slips as he turns towards the door.

* * *

\- So, in that first section when Ben's father asks if Ben would want him to get on his knees and hail him, that's actually inspired by something that happened to me. In late middle school (7th or 8th grade) I showed a drawing I made to my dad, but he barely even looked at it and just said "good" before setting it aside. When I complained that he didn't say anything else about it he went into this whole thing about if I would have him go on his knees and say how good it was... I don't really remember, but he might have actually gone on his knees as he was saying it... I really had no response to it. I don't know if I even said anything. That's pretty much where the video ends. I don't remember anything after that.

\- **Next Up** : Ben talks to Chad, Fairy Godmother talks to Ben, and we may or may not get to Evie's surprise party... It's just really important that her birthstone is a diamond. It's intricate to a plot about... 5 to 10 fanfics from now? Like, ten years from where we currently are in the timeline. Yes, I've already thought that ahead... Actually, I've thought so far ahead to the point where Ben's daughter would have a son, which is just a completely messed up situation that I'm not giving details out about right now... Unless you explicitly ask, but it probably would just seem out there, pointless, and unnecessarily dark without knowing all of the events that lead up to that point.


	130. Charming

\- I have 41 document pages for you to read tonight. Why so many, you ask? Because, I had a great idea for the third chapter, one thing led to another, and then suddenly it was like 20-something pages and I had no choice but to split it into two separate chapters. So, you have four chapters tonight. Enjoy. Make sure to let me know which ones you like or disliked and why... probably no need to say I got off track, though. I try to make things realistic, and it's scientifically proven that no one stays on topic in a conversation for longer than a few minutes... Also, humans are notoriously bad at sticking to a single subject, and therefore so are authors. Yes, I'm flawed, just like every other person or nonperson in the world... You know, that one robot that said it's going to kill off humanity or something along those lines, probably wasn't such a smart idea to say that aloud.

* * *

 **Charming**

 **(Day 103: Thursday Noon)**

"Ben?" Mal asks, and then he looks up in confusion. "We were just asking how you're doing with everything."

"Fine," he merely says before looking back down at his blue tray.

"You sure?" she questions. "You seem really quiet, like more than usual."

It takes him a minute to respond, "I'm just tired."

"Maybe you should try a nap," Carlos suggests. "It's supposed to help heal, and you're probably spending a lot of energy just from, well… your injury." Ben looks up at him in annoyance. "What? I'm just saying."

Ben stands from the table, "I have homework."

Doug comments, "You haven't eaten yet."

Ben eyes over the five of them before glancing at his tray, "I will later." and then he turns around to walk away.

Doug gives Carlos a look, before Carlos interrupts the stare, "What?"

"He probably meant he was emotionally tired," Doug points out, "from all of the English in and out of class."

"Sleeping still would have helped with that," he defends.

"You know what doesn't?" Doug counters. "Talking fast and using big words. You really couldn't have simplified things for him?"

"Look," Carlos breathes. "When I think of Ben, I don't think of dumbing things down. He's a smart guy."

"Language has nothing to do with how smart someone is," Doug points out. "It's thought that Albert Einstein was dyslexic. Does his possible trouble with language make him dumb?"

Carlos narrows his eyes at him, "I so did not say that."

"Stop it," Mal frustrates. She turns to Carlos, "You. Make things easier for Ben." before she faces Doug. "And you. Stop acting like you know everything. You don't."

Doug frowns, "I never claimed I did." before Mal lets out a loud breath through her nose as she looks away. "I'm just trying to help."

She shakes her head before staring back at him, "You Auradon people always trying to help. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want someone to talk about me like I'm weak or fragile behind my back— to my girlfriend and her friends no less."

It takes a moment for him to say, "Like I've said before, Ben is bad at taking care of himself. He's bad at standing up for himself. Someone had to."

"Maybe there's a reason why he didn't say anything," Mal asserts. "Maybe he was afraid of being seen as dumb. Maybe he was embarrassed. Maybe he just didn't want to make such a big deal out of a temporary thing."

"His reputation isn't worth his health," Doug comments.

"That's not for you to decide," Mal loudly counters. "This is about him. It's his life. You don't have any say in what should or should not be important to him." He merely looks at her, failing to respond, before she shakes her head and grabs her glass of milk. "Seriously. Some people just really need to learn to mind their own business and stop 'helping' people."

* * *

"Hey," Ben hears Chad call after him, and he turns around in the hallway. "I've been wanting to talk to you. How are doing?"

Ben frowns, "Not great. You?"

"Fine," Chad shrugs off with a facial expression, before he smiles. "Word has it you got hurt from stairs. Is that true?"

He makes a disgruntled noise, "No. I got it from tourney."

"But you don't play tourney anymore," he disproves.

"Yes." Ben faces him, "That's how it should have. But no. I had to fall down stairs." He shakes his head, "How stupid is that?"

"It's better than getting stuck on pain killers," Chad grins, but it slowly slips as Ben continues to frown at him. "That was supposed to be a joke." His eyes shift, "I wasn't trying to make this about me. This is about you."

"Sorry," Ben breathes. "It's just hard. There's homework, teachers, and questions, and I don't get it. It's just a bundle of… garbage."

"I think you mean bunch," Chad corrects, and at Ben's clear confusion he explains, "The phrase you were trying to say is 'a bunch of crap' without the swearing, because you don't like to swear in English." He continues on, "Anyway." before he motions with his hands. "People say bunch, like a bunch of stuff. It's not bundle… Bundle would be like a bunch of objects in one package, like a video game bundle. Where, a bunch is just like a hand full of objects."

"Right," Ben sighs, before he shakes his head. "Sorry. My English is bad right now."

"Yeah," Chad nearly laughs. "I heard you tried to turn your English paper in in French."

"It was just one word," Ben defends. "I didn't know it, and I didn't like the translator."

"Why?" he questions. "Was it not working?"

"No. It worked," Ben almost rolls his eyes. "I just didn't like the words." He notices Chad's inquiring look. "Words have feeling. The words didn't feel right for the paper."

"So, you wrote it in French?"

"Yes," Ben gives in.

"Why do you make things so hard?" he furrows his eyebrows.

"I don't make things hard," Ben counters. "Things are just hard. It's English this. English that." His eyes shift in annoyance, "I'm tired of it. I wish I didn't even have to speak it."

"Then don't," Chad reasons, and when he sees Ben's confusion he smiles and continues in French, "Like I said, you always have to make things so hard."

Ben sighs before switching to French as well, "This isn't going to work for class."

"Like anyone pays attention in class," Chad disputes. "If they wanted us to pay attention in class, then they shouldn't be making us read the same stuff outside of it."

"And not everyone speaks French," he continues.

"So," Chad gestures with an open hand. "Avoid them. It's not that hard."

Ben gives him a look, "You want me to avoid my girlfriend?"

He partly smirks, "Hey. Whatever makes you happy." before he raises his eyebrows. "Unless you want to be a masochist about it, in which case you can go around torturing yourself with English all you want."

"Of course not."

"Good, then," Chad smiles. "Then it's settled. You're going to stop with the English, and of course you're going to need someone to hang out with. What do you say, this afternoon fiveish?"

"Wai— Hey," Ben's mouth gapes in near laughter. "I didn't say anything about needing someone to hang out with. I have homework."

"And who else better than me to help?" he smiles, before he keeps Ben from answering. "It would be like old times."

"We're not in elementary school anymore," Ben pointedly states.

"No. Of course, not," Chad agrees. "If we were, you would be coming to me. I wouldn't be needing to chase after you to get one conversation."

Ben wets his lips, "I'm sorry about that. Things have been busy."

"And now we can be busy together," he solves, crossing his arms. "It's not like you need help with homework anyway. All you need is a translator."

"Your French can't be good enough to translate law and psychology terminology," Ben frowns. "How are you supposed to help me?"

"Context and stuff," Chad makes a face. "And I can keep the English speakers from annoying you. It will be fun." Ben opens his mouth to speak, before Chad pretends to check his watch. "Oh. Look at that. I have to go." He moves backward, "See you at the library at five." before he turns and hurries off.

Ben's eyes furrow in evaluation, "What just happened?" before he glances between his destination and back towards Chad; however, when Chad can no longer be seen he merely shakes his head and walks to his dorm.

* * *

"You're so frickin' amazing right now," Ben enthuses as he finishes the assignment.

"I know," Chad smiles.

Ben gives him a look, "Don't let it get to your head." before he checks his watch for the time. "It's almost dinner."

He hears Ben's phone, "That her again?"

Ben groans before grabbing his phone, "Yeah. I think she wants to like hang out to, you know, get heat and stuff." before he translates the text. "But not anymore. I guess she got it from somewhere else."

"Or she just knows that dinner is soon," Chad counters. Ben doesn't respond, merely closing his notebooks inside the textbooks and stacking them. "You know you can still hook up with people without really speaking, right?"

"Mal's aggressive," Ben impartially informs. "If I'm making out with her, I want to be able to actually communicate. You know?"

He shrugs, "I guess, but where else is she going to get the heat from?"

"Her girlfriend."

Chad half grins, "You're joking."

"I don't know if I am or not," Ben frowns. "I'm pretty sure I caught them sleeping overnight together, which is against the rules. Evie tried to explain, I think, but I couldn't understand a word she was saying, and… with everything else… I think Mal's cheating on me."

It takes a moment for Chad to uneasily comment, "That's ruff."

"I don't really care right now," Ben leans back in the chair. "She needs heat and I'm not in the mood, so… Maybe she's not even cheating. I don't know. All I know is that I really don't feel like dealing with anyone right now."

"Except me," Chad smiles.

Ben snickers, "Yeah. You're just that special." before he stands from his seat; however, he frowns as he tries to slide the books towards his leg to gather them into his arm, and when they fall in between the space he looks up towards the ceiling and hums loudly in displeasure.

"Here." Chad goes to pick up the items, "Let me get those." before he stands up and notices Ben outstretch his arm. "What? Are you stupid? I'm carrying them."

"I can carry them myself," Ben insists.

"No, you can't," Chad grins, before he uses a free hand to mess up Ben's hair. "You can't even use a comb."

Ben fixes it with a smile, "Why do you have to be such a jerk?"

"Why do you have to be such a pansy?" he counters. "You're king. If you're too afraid to let people wait on you, then you should've just given the crown to me."

"I was going to let you help me with that, actually," Ben slowly says as they walk out of the library, "but since you're being so mean maybe I'll just find help elsewhere."

"Wait," Chad places a hand on his shoulder, and Ben winces. "Sorry," he grimaces and takes it off, but then he grins again. "You need help with king stuff?"

"After I'm caught up on all my assignments," Ben widens his eyes. "But then." He nods, "Yes… I could use some help."

"That's fucking awesome," Chad amazes, before he places a hand on Ben's back and guides him down the hall. "I can see it now. Chad and Ben Florian doing king stuff— together."

"You know this is just temporary, right?" Ben makes sure.

"Yeah. Of course," Chad makes a face, before he takes his hand off of him. "I'm not an idiot. You only want me right now, because you need me."

"You make me sound so horrible," Ben mumbles.

"I have that effect on people," he agrees. "A lot like your girlfriend. That cheater. If I had someone as great as you, I would never cheat on them."

"Aren't you with Audrey?" Ben disbelieves.

"Well, yeah. No," Chad explains. "I meant that if I was with someone as great as you who didn't have a thing against premarital sex, then I wouldn't cheat on them."

Ben takes a moment before slowly stating, "So, you're cheating on Audrey."

"Technically. Technically not."

He shakes his head, "You're so confusing."

Chad smirks, "That's just part of my charm." before he looks at him. "You're having dinner with me, right?"

Ben furrows his eyebrows at him, "Why would I be eating with you?"

"Well, you're not honestly going to eat with your non-French girlfriend, are you?" Ben's mouth hangs open for a minute in unsureness. "That's what I thought. Come on. We can use your books to make sure no one sits with us."

"And why don't we want people sitting with us?" he questions.

"To keep them from making us speak English," Chad excuses. "Obviously."

Ben sighs, "Right. Okay." before he follows Chad to a mostly empty table.

* * *

\- When I was writing this I just could not stop laughing at Chad's interaction with Ben... It was less funny when I read it through for editing, but I hope you guys managed to enjoy it. I think one of my favorite parts was when Chad said "Chad and Ben Florian working on king stuff— together". In this world people only have middle names, which makes it a little less like that girl scribbling her crush's surname after hers in her notebook, but I still thought it was funny. Oddly enough, if I didn't have a compulsion against having single words left on one line, then originally Chad's full name was listed. I like this better.

\- **Danifan3000** So, yes, Evie's mother is a witch. I remembered that much from the animated movie... I mean, I don't know if they ever said she was a witch, but that's how I interpreted it at least. Anyway, so Evie's mother is a witch and Evie has inherited that. Now, I feel like generally speaking people would know that her mother was a witch, except that in this world it seems like anyone can make a potion... My line of thinking here is that even if everyone knows that Evie's mother is a witch, it would not necessarily mean that Evie herself is one and because Ben has betrayed his parents by not telling them about this they assume that she isn't. Because, someone that dangerous to their livelihood, surly Ben would tell them about it. By the end of this fanfiction Belle will find out about Evie being a witch, but I am undecided as to whether she will tell Adam and try to convince him things will be okay or if he's just going to find out himself during the summer which might be worse. Side Note: It's been a real long time since I saw Snow White. I always found the story boring. Does anyone remember if the Evil Queen had magic that could be interpreted as telekinesis? I feel like she did, but I might just be confusing the animated version with Once Upon a Time... Then again, so I remember a frame where an old woman's hand is stopping a number of arrows, and there's this smoke or forcefield animation... her nails might be sharp and purple actually, so I could be thinking of Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, another movie that I've only seen like once. Thank you to **Elizabeth Annette** and others who have been commenting. It's very appreciated.

\- Posted: 11/19/2018


	131. I'm Fine

**I'm Fine, I've Always been Fine, and I Always will Be**

 **(Day 104: Friday Afternoon)**

"You wanted to see me?" Ben comments as he walks into the headmistress's office.

"You're not speaking English," she notes.

"You know French. I know French." Ben sits down in the chair. "So, let's speak French."

"Alright," she accepts. "So, I've asked you here, because it has become apparent that you've been saying you got your injury from a fall."

"Down the stairs," Ben clarifies, before he points to the cup of mints. "May I have one?"

"Go ahead," she addresses, before Ben takes one and presses the white ring out of the clear wrapper and into his mouth. "Like I was saying, when these kinds of claims are made I like to look into them."

Ben bites the mint, and it breaks in half, "I fell down the stairs."

"Yes. You said that," Fairy Godmother frowns, before she mentions, "but how did you fall? And where?"

When the mint dissolves he goes to grab another one, "At the castle. I wasn't being careful, and I fell down that one staircase that leads to the top floor. Well, you know." He brings the mint to his mouth. "If you don't count the towers, that is." He gestures, "The staircase that leads to the hallway of the west wing dining and bedroom space. You know it."

"I do," she slowly addresses, before she continues on. "You say you weren't being careful. Would you like to explain further?"

"I wasn't watching where I was going."

"What do you mean by not watching where you were going?" she picks out.

"Just that I literally wasn't watching where I was going," Ben furrows his eyebrows, before he straightens up and leans forward with a smile. "Come on, Lucinda. You've known me my entire life. Do you really take me for a liar?"

"What I take you as is a student," she firmly responds, "which means that as your headmistress you should be using my working name."

Ben leans back in his chair and frowns, "Yes, Fairy Godmother."

She attempts to smile, "Now. You're also a political figure who I'm sure knows how to tell the truth without being fully honest, which is why I'm not letting you leave until you tell me the full story."

Ben lets out a breath, "Let me see." as he thinks it through. "I just got done with a council meeting, I went up the stairs, and my father started talking to me." He pauses, "I don't really remember the specifics, but it was something about policy or another." before he takes a third mint from the clay cup. "At some point I took a step backward and lost my footing. My father reached for me, but I was already falling. And the banister was too far away." He thinks, "I, uh… well." before he sits up and wets his lips. "The next thing I knew my father was checking on me, my mother was coming down the stairs, and I realized something was wrong with my shoulder." Ben faces her, "That's when they took me to the hospital. Or, you know, the emergency room."

"So, how did you fall?" she questions again.

Ben eyes her for a moment, "I took a step back."

"And why did you take a step back?" she inquires.

He awkwardly smiles, "Why does anyone take a step back?" before he places the mint in his mouth. "Do mints make you hungrier? I think they make me hungrier."

"Then, perhaps, you should hold off on them," she suggests, and after Ben nods she continues. "So, you don't know why you took a step back?"

"I don't even remember the conversation," Ben bypasses.

"And why do you think that is?" she addresses.

"Well, it's not very important in the grand scheme of everything that happened that night, is it?" he suggests, before he goes to grab another mint.

The headmistress places her hand over the cup, forcing Ben to meet her eyes, and she can see the unsettled expression on his face, "I would like you to focus, please."

He shifts in his seat, "I told you the story. What else do you want from me?"

She's quiet for a moment, "You tell me. Is there anything else I should know?"

Ben frowns, "No." as he rationalizes why she shouldn't have to know the details; however, she seems even quieter than before, and he can't help but feel like he's failed her. "May I be excused?"

"Pardon?" she questions.

He wets his lips, "Can I leave?" and she's silent for a long minute. "I told you the story. You said I could leave after I told you it."

"I told you I wouldn't let you leave until you told me it," she corrects.

"I don't have anything more to say," Ben softly responds.

Fairy Godmother nods, and there's more silence before she asks, "What are you thinking?"

"Honestly?" Ben begins before glancing down. "I just really feel like going back to my room, ordering a pizza, and then eat the entire thing, because I skipped lunch to work on homework and now I'm super hungry."

"No teacher would want you to skip lunch to do homework," she opinionates.

"When else am I going to get it done?" he counters, and he notices her clasp her hands in front of her. "I'm not dropping any classes."

She quietly comments, "I know you won't." before she faces him. "Which is why I was going to remind you that a person needs energy to function. That means eating and sleeping."

Ben half laughs, "Trust me. I eat enough."

"Do you skip meals regularly?"

"I guess," he furrows his eyebrows.

"So, how do you know?" she calmly questions.

Ben looks off for a second, "Because. The pizza I'm about to eat has to be at least one thousand and five hundred calories." before he widens his eyes at her. "Trust me. I eat enough."

"You know," the headmistress addresses, "binging isn't very healthy behavior either."

"Binging?" Ben exasperates. "You make it sound like I have a fucking eating disorder." She sits quietly, and his mouth gapes, "You're seriously questioning it."

"Binge Eating Disorder is more common amongst males," she informs.

"If I had BED," Ben loudly comments, "then I would be fat."

"Not necessarily."

"But likely," he interrupts, "and I'm not."

"Then, keeping the restriction in mind, bulimia also has binge eating—"

"I'm not bulimic," Ben defends, before his eyes shift in thought. "I don't even throw up."

There's a tense pause, before Fairy Godmother calmly continues, "A person doesn't need to use self-induced vomiting as a purging tactic to have bulimia, but with all of the classes you've taken I'm sure you already know that."

Ben motions his pointing finger down twice as he sternly responds in a quieter voice, "I do not have an eating disorder." before he nods up. "You know who has an eating disorder? Evie. If you want to help someone, you should help her. She's even skinnier now than when she first got here."

"You're deflecting," she lets him know, and then he sighs. "And I've already spoken to Evie. I gave her resources, and I will speak to her again once it's relevant." She nods, "But, for now, we're taking care of you."

"Don't you think I'm sick enough?" Ben disbelieves. "Why are you trying to push another illness onto me?"

"I'm not trying to do anything," she evenly responds. "I am merely saying that what you're doing isn't healthy, and if it's not an eating disorder it certainly at least sounds like disordered eating." He looks off. "This is a dangerous line you're on, and eating disorders are very dark things. You may think you have control of this, but you could easily fall into destructive patterns and lose yourself in it." He frowns back at her. "If you are not currently suffering from an eating disorder, I would like to take preventative measures to make sure these unhealthy behaviors don't turn into one."

It takes Ben a moment to say, "I never claimed to have control over anything." before he wets his lips and slightly shakes his head. "My life is already not my own. I don't need an eating disorder for that to happen." He sits up straighter, "And if I really had binging issues, then I wouldn't be planning to order a pizza. I would just be rummaging through the kitchen."

"Does the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders specify that binges can't be planned?" the headmistress inquires, and at that Ben silences. "People binge when they are craving something. People with eating disorders may ignore those cravings, until it reaches a point where they can't help but eat that thing in large amounts. The easiest way to prevent binges is to listen to your body, eat when you're hungry and make sure you are getting the nutrients your body is craving."

"Some cravings are bad," Ben points out.

"But they're there for a reason," Fairy Godmother finishes. "When people crave sweets it's because of the sugar, which could have easily been obtained from complex carbs like fruit, vegetables, or whole grains."

"And fat is supposed to make people not hungry," Ben counters, "so why wouldn't avocadoes work for me? Or high fiber cereal? Or literally anything?" He eyes the desk, "I just don't get why I can't make school or work priority over eating if I'm always just going to be hungry anyway."

After a long pause the headmistress slowly addresses, "Ben, different kinds of people have different kinds of needs." He looks back at her, his mouth cautiously gaped slightly. "Surely you know by now that your father's curse would have affected him on a genetic level." She meets his eyes, "And if that's the case, then there's a chance that some of those genes could have been, uh, retained even after the curse broke and that you may have inherited a few."

"Which is why any child of someone who has undergone an animal transformation would have to be legally documented as a hybrid," Ben evenly comments.

"Yes, uh," she uneasily responds, "not that many people know about that." Fairy Godmother hesitates, "Ben. There's no need for you to suffer." as she frowns at him in concern. "Surely you must have had cravings that could tell you how to solve your hunger issue?"

"They're bad."

"What do you mean?" she inquires, before she notices him take his watch off and then put it back on.

"They're just bad."

"Would you like to explain?"

He shakes his head, "No. I don't want to think about it. I— eh, uh— don't want to, uh, talk about it." He meets her eyes, "May I leave? I want to leave."

"Ben," she begins, "you're a teenager. With all of the hormones and growing that you've gone through, this has to have been taking a toll on you. All I want to do is help."

"Things are fine. They've been fine," he whispers in desperateness as the tears shine in his hazel-green eyes. "It's always been like this, and I've been fine. So, why change now?"

"Ben," she slowly starts. "If you are ignoring your hunger that is restriction, and most people who restrict end up binging. You say your cravings are bad, but if you think that now, I can only imagine how you would feel if you binged on whatever it is you crave."

"I won't," Ben quietly asserts, but she continues staring at him in concern. "I eat rare steak every week and meat every day. Shouldn't that be enough?"

"Not if your body is telling you it's not," she addresses, and when Ben looks towards the ceiling she notices the tears stream down from his eyes. "Look. This isn't as bad as it may seem to you." He faces her again, gulping. "You're not the only person at this school with those kinds of dietary needs, and there's something in the kitchen for everyone. In fact, if you look in that second fridge you will find nothing but fish, meat, and blood in it— animal, of course, all from the butcher shop."

"And if I were to get caught?" Ben worries.

It takes the headmistress a moment to inform, "I find that most people with your needs go to the kitchen at night to eat in peace. Not that I'm encouraging you to eat alone." and she notices him look away again. "This isn't something you should have to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed." Ben looks back at her, "I just don't want to do it."

She glances at her hands for a second, before she faces him again, "I highly recommend that you reconsider that."

"And I highly recommend that you let me out of here," Ben counters with unblinking eyes, the eyelashes still wet from the tears.

The headmistress nods, "Okay. You may leave." but when he rushes to the door she continues. "Ben." He stops in his tracks, turning to see her. "I'm here if you need any help with any problem."

"I don't need help," Ben denies. "I'm fine, I've always been fine, and I always will be."

* * *

Ben sits in his dorm at the circular table, looking over his French translation of the DSM. In the section about bulimia it clearly states in the requirements that a binge must consist of a lack of control, but as he read further into the diagnostic features it also said that some people have given up on controlling their binges and that they may indeed be planned. "What are you reading about?"

Ben looks over his shoulder as he watches Doug walk over to him, before he turns back to the large book, "Just looking things up."

"Looking things up?" Doug inquires before sitting a couple seats over.

Ben had gone over the criteria: binge eating, an act that involves eating a large amount of food within the span of a couple hours, and inappropriate compensatory behaviors, which just happen to include fasting and excessive exercise. The binging and behaviors also have to have been happening at least once a week for three months, and it just so happens that he's been going out to that restaurant at least once a week for a long while now; however, that's just because they have good steak. It has nothing to do with binging, even if he does order a little more than just a rare steak when he goes there, and he doesn't do so-called inappropriate behaviors afterwards either. Sure, sometimes he skips meals and he likes to exercise, but it's not like he's doing those things to lose weight. He doesn't even do those things on purpose. He shifts in his seating. No. He does it on purpose. He definitely does it on purpose, because only someone with an eating disorder could find themselves helplessly exercising or skipping meals. Down in the description it also says that people with eating disorders may exercise even when they're injured and he hasn't done that yet, so all he has to do is not exercise while he's injured and it will be all good. Not that he has to prove anything, it's not like a hybrid can have an eating disorder anyway. He looks up at Doug in question, "Do you think a hybrid could get an eating disorder?"

He gives him a look, "Are you serious?" and Ben fails to respond. "That's like asking if hybrids can have gender or sexuality. Hybrids eat, so yeah. I would think they could get eating disorders too." He watches as Ben wets his lips and closes the book. "Why? What's this about?"

Ben shakes his head, "Just Fairy Godmother… One thing after another."

"What did she say?"

He skips past her accusation about falling, "That no teacher would want me to miss meals to do homework… And that if I feel like eating something then I should, even if I don't want to." He pushes the book aside, "I was going to have a pizza, but now I don't know."

"Ben," Doug sighs. "You haven't eaten all day. Just have the pizza."

"I can't make her right," Ben disagrees. "If I eat now, I'll make her right."

"Ben," he sternly addresses, "normal people eat. If you want to prove her wrong, then you will have the pizza and not eat it all."

"I don't know," Ben mumbles again.

Doug finds Ben's blue laptop across the table and opens it, "Password?"

He makes a noise before pulling the laptop towards himself, "I want to do it." and by the time he passes it back to Doug the internet is already pulled up.

"I'm guessing you have the pizza place bookmarked," Doug assumes, before he finds it and the site loads. "Looks like you're already logged in. What now?"

"Go to my history. It's saved."

Doug does as instructed, "So, do you want the bacon and pepperoni or the… the one that has all the meat on it?"

"It's not all the meat," Ben defends, before Doug gives him a look. "The first one's fine."

"This is one expensive pizza. I wish my family had an extra fifty dollars a month." He notices Ben's frown, "Not that I'm complaining. Your raise was really nice." before he moves the laptop over to him. "Credit card. I'm not touching that."

Ben presses confirm himself, "There. It's done."

Doug attempts to smile, "How do you feel?"

"Not great."

Doug sighs, "You know… I was half joking when I said I wished my family had more money. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. It's your money. You can spend it how you want."

"No. I know," Ben softly replies, before he looks off. "It's just…" He faces him, "I have enough problems. I don't want her to be right."

"You just have to eat the pizza without eating it all," Doug reminds him.

Ben nods, "Right."

"So," he grabs the remote to turn on the TV, "what movie are you watching?"

"I don't know if I am."

Doug frowns at him, "You always watch a movie when you eat pizza."

"Because it takes that long," Ben whispers. "Maybe I shouldn't."

"Ben," Doug reasons, "you never get to enjoy yourself. You can watch a movie and eat at the same time. Just don't eat the entire thing. Stop when you're full. It's not that hard."

Ben is silent for a long minute, "Are there any Christmas movies?"

He looks at him, "It's April." but when Ben continues to frown in silence he goes to look for one anyway. "Here. You're lucky."

Ben mumbles, "Thank you."

Doug tries to smile at him, "No problem."

* * *

When Doug takes the last piece Ben complains, "Hey. I was going to eat that."

"I'm helping," he continues to stand as he takes a bite. "If you ate the whole thing, you would have made her right. But now, you proved her wrong." He takes another bite before sitting down, "This is some good pizza."

"I'm still hungry," Ben mumbles, crossing his arms as he leans back in the chair.

"You nearly ate the whole thing. How can you not be full?"

It takes a minute for Ben to answer, "It's not that I'm not full. I can feel there's stuff there. It's just not full, like…"

"Satisfying?" Doug suggests.

"Sure," Ben continues on before shaking her head. "I should be used to it, but it's hard." Doug doesn't speak. "At least I'm not… What's that word?"

"Starving?" he questions.

"Yes," Ben remembers. "At least I'm not starving. That's worse."

"So, the pizza didn't help a lot," Doug comments before turning towards him. "What else do you want?"

Ben pauses the movie, "I don't want anything."

"But you said you're still hungry," he contradicts.

"I'm always hungry." Ben eyes the table, "I shouldn't have said anything."

"The first thing that comes to mind," Doug continues on. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Ben enunciates through a loud whisper.

Doug observes his desperateness and the gleam in his eyes, "It's okay to be scared, Ben."

"I'm fine," Ben attempts to reassure. "I promise you, I'm fine."

"You sure?" he doubts.

"I'm fine," Ben repeats. "Okay? I'm going to be okay."

"So, there's nothing I can do for you?" Doug asks.

He wets his lips before glancing down, "No."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Homework." Ben asserts, "I want to do homework." before he sighs. "But even math has a lot of English. It's all words now." He shakes his head, "What happened to math just being math?"

"Can I help you with that?" he asks.

Ben shakes his head, "No." before he stands from the table and heads for the door.

Doug furrows his eyebrows, "Where are you going?"

"Chad." Ben unlocks the door, "I need Chad." before he opens it and walks off.

* * *

\- Okay, so I literally just told someone in a private message that I wouldn't be delving into Ben's food issues in this fic. Well, not literally, this was last week, but anyway... The chapter was too short and I had to make it longer, therefore I made it longer. This happens a lot actually, where I don't think certain characters will interact so much or a certain plot won't be able to be explored thoroughly but then here's a gap where it fits well. So, yeah. That's why. Anyone have a guess as to what Ben's cravings are or a theory as to why he doesn't want to act on them? It may or may not be clear from things that have already been written.


	132. Surprise

**Surprise**

 **(Day 105: Saturday Morning)**

When Evie sees the bright light she opens her eyes and glances at the clock, "It's only seven A.M." before she picks up the small mirror and the light disappears. "What're you doing?" It shows her the number seventeen. "Yes. I know it's my birthday today." She notices Mal turn over in the other bed and whispers, "Which is why I should be allowed to get my beauty sleep." The image turns into a present. "I don't understand." The present glows. "Yes. The present," Evie irritably responds. "I see there's a present." The present moves down, before the word 'me' and an arrow pointing towards it hovers over it. "Wait," Evie smiles in realization. "You have a present for me?" It gives her a thumbs up, and she excitedly questions, "What is it?" The thumbs up is replaced with a question mark, and she sighs. "Okay. I get it. It's a surprise." She grins, "So, how do I get it?" The mirror shows a map, and Evie squints at it. There's a red x, but the mirror is so small that it makes the location hard to see. "Where is that?"

The mirror writes, "Near home. The forest."

"You mean where Mother used to live?" Evie asks, and then the mirror gives another thumbs up. "But that's so far away. How are we supposed to get there?" The mirror shows a picture of Doug, "Really? You think he can help?" He gives her another thumbs up, and she inwardly groans. "I wish you could just talk to me." He shows her a picture of Mal, and Evie glances over before shaking her head, "No. I can't do that. I wouldn't even have a place to put you, and if something goes wrong…" She frowns, "I don't want to lose you." and then it shows her a shape of a heart. She smiles again, "I love you too."

Mal looks up at her with squinted eyes, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know." Evie excuses, "Just some self-encouragement."

"Right," Mal tiredly plops her head back onto the pillow.

Evie stands from the bed, "I'm going to hang out with Doug. You don't need me, do you?" She makes an indistinct sound, and Evie translates it to no. "You sure?" she questions as she walks around Mal's bed towards the bathroom. "Not even for that hair?"

"My hair's fine."

"It has knots in it," Evie points out, before she remembers to go grab an outfit. "I keep telling you to braid it before going to sleep."

"Not long enough," Mal loudly mumbles.

"Of course," Evie comments as she pulls items out of the dresser. "You should when it's long enough, though." She walks to the bathroom again, but she can't help but look back at Mal, "Are you sure you don't need help brushing it or anything?"

"Nah," she slowly states. "I want to sleep, and there's a spell. I think."

"Okay, then," Evie smiles before shutting the bathroom door, laying the magic mirror upside down on the counter, and undressing to take a shower.

* * *

"Hey," Evie finds Doug dishing up in the cafeteria.

He smiles at her, "Hey, Evie."

"So," she brightly smiles as she twists a piece of hair. "I have a favor to ask."

"Oh." He laughs, "And what would that be?"

She eyes up, "If someone were to let's say want to visit the area their mother once lived." before she looks at him. "How would one do that, exactly?"

"Well, the train is the cheapest, most reliable option," he informs.

Evie grins, "And how might someone get onto one of those trains?"

"Well, um." He adjusts his glasses, "I could show you, if you like?"

"That would be perfect."

"Really?" Doug unsurely asks.

"Totally," she flutters her eyelashes. "So, when would that be?"

"Well, the train leaves at nine," he thinks.

"Perfect," she confirms. "So, you will take me then?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat and stretches the collar of his shirt from his neck, "And, you know, if you needed an escort— Not that you need one. I'm sure you can take care of yourself. But, if you wanted someone to help, then, uh…" He meets her dark brown eyes and lets out a breath, "I, uh…"

"I would love for you to come with," she continues to smile.

"Really?" he questions in surprise.

"Yeah," she reassures. "That would be so cool of you." She brings her hand up to check her nails, before her mouth opens in thought, "So cool, in fact, that you should sit with us."

Doug glances at the usual table, "Uh. I hate to break it to you, Evie, but it looks like you're the only one having breakfast today."

Evie looks off at their table, but no one is there, "Right. Saturday." before looking back at him in remembrance. "What about Ben?"

"Right." Doug takes a moment to think, "I really need to explain this to you, don't I?" He faces her with a frown, "I don't want you mimic any of Ben's behavior. I know it looks like he never eats, but…"

"But?" Evie frowns.

"He just has this weird idea that he can catch up on eating, I guess," Doug slowly explains. "And he does eat, so I don't want you like competing with him or anything."

Evie's eyes shift, "I'm not competing with him."

"No. I'm sure you're not." Doug purses his lips, "It's just, I read that eating disorders can be competitive, and with how you left the table when he did that one time—"

"Doug," Evie quietly interrupts. "I'm not competing with him."

"Okay, then." Doug looks away as he slowly nods, before he faces her again, "So, we're sitting now?"

"Yes," she nods.

"And you don't want any juice or anything?" he makes sure.

"No. Thank you," Evie hurriedly states.

"Alrighty, then," Doug uncomfortably continues, nodding over to the empty table. "Let's grab a seat, then. Or two. I meant a couple— not that we're a couple."

"Doug," Evie evenly interrupts.

"Yes?" he answers.

She tries to smile again, "Let's just sit down."

"Yes," Doug immediately responds. "That's a great idea."

"Thank you," Evie slowly accepts the compliment, before they sit down across from each other at the long table.

* * *

"So, where are we going exactly?" Doug questions, as they sit at a booth in the train.

Evie takes the mirror out of her purse, "Mirror, mirror in my hand, please show me the land." before the map it had shown her earlier appears and she faces the mirror towards Doug.

"And where is that?" he questions.

Evie sets the mirror down, "Do you know where Snow White's castle is?"

"Uh, yeah."

"So, it would be in the woods near there," she informs, and then his mouth gapes. "What?"

"What?" Doug disbelieves. "How about how the woods you're probably referring to is the dwarves' reservation site." Evie frowns. "You're using me, aren't you?"

"I mean, yeah," she softly answers. "But why do you think I'm using you?"

"It's a gated community," he lets her know. "You need me to get in there."

Evie glances at the mirror, "Look, Doug. I didn't know about that."

"Then why am I here?" he insists.

She glances at the mirror before meeting his green eyes, "Because I asked the mirror how I could get there, and it told me you could help." but he fails to speak. "The mirror wanted you here, Doug. I swear I didn't know about any of this."

"The mirror wanted me here," Doug repeats in frustration. "It's not alive, Evie."

She gives him a long look, "Don't you think I know that?"

He deeply frowns, before he sighs and rubs the back of his neck, "Just tell me what you need." She doesn't say anything, and he looks back at her. "You're going there for a reason. So long as I'm here, just tell me why." She looks down. "Please."

When she looks back up her glossy lips part, "It's my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" Doug questions, and after a minute he asks, "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Cake for starters," Evie confesses. "I just didn't want my birthday to become an excuse for people to completely obsess about food and forget about me."

He sees her tear up, "Right. I'm sorry."

Evie shakes her head, "It's not your fault." as her eyes widen. "People like food… It's just what they do." She moves her hair behind an ear, "But, anyway. You wanted to know details, right?" He merely nods, and then she nods in return. "Well." She shakes her head, "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I would never think that," he reassures.

Evie looks around the nearly empty compartment, before she faces him, "Most people know my mother is a witch."

"Yes," Doug confirms.

"I'm a witch too," she lets him know.

It takes him a moment to process that, "Okay."

"And my magic mirror is actually a witch's glass," Evie says as she places it between them. "It has a spirit in it."

He looks down at it, "That thing has a spirit in it?" and then he sees her nod. "But you carry it with you all the time."

"If it breaks, he dies," she firmly addresses, before she sighs, "Again." She frowns at him, "I can't lose him."

"Okay," Doug unsurely continues on. "So, what does this have to do with you going to the reservation?"

It takes her a minute to answer, "He has a birthday present for me. Wherever it is, it must be on the reservation." She hears him let out a loud breath. "What?"

"It's just." He gestures to the mirror, "Do you even know who this spirit is?"

"Of course I know who he is."

"Then who is it?" he questions, but she merely looks at him. "What? You can't tell me?"

"It's bad enough you even know he exists," she firmly comments. "Do you know how much more danger he's in now?"

"How is it putting him in danger?"

"No one cares about mirrors," Evie quickly answers. "Sure. Breaking mirrors is bad luck, but people still break them all the time. He's a lot safer if people think he's just a regular mirror, or even just an old, magic mirror." Her voice raises, "If anyone knew that this mirror has a spirit in it— a spirit who has a personal connection to me— then all they would have to do to get back at me is to kill him."

"Evie," Doug attempts to settle her down. "Whoever this spirit is, he's already dead. He can't die again."

She leans back in her seat and folds her arms, "You're only proving my point."

He sees the tears in her eyes, "Who was he to you?" but she merely looks out the window. "I mean, he's not like your brother or anything. Is he?"

"This is making me dizzy," Evie complains, before she pulls the curtains shut and faces him again. "No. Not my brother."

"Then who?" he questions, but she still doesn't speak. He looks down at the mirror, "Who are you?" and after a moment he reads the name. "Mark. Your name is Mark?"

"Congratulations," Evie unenthusiastically comments. "He likes you." She takes the mirror and places it back in her purse, "Sorry." She feels the heavy sensation before turning back to Doug, "And he's not my boyfriend, if that's what you're wondering."

"I wasn't wondering that," he softly denies.

"Really?" Evie questions. "Because, you're really tense all of a sudden."

"I was getting answers," he defends. "Come on. Don't you trust me?"

Evie stares at him for a long moment before sternly stating, "Not on his life."

Doug slowly nods, "Okay." before he faces her. "I can accept that."

* * *

When the gate opens Doug and Evie walk forward and a blond woman smiles, "Nice to see you back. Do your parents know you're here?"

"Uh, no," Doug realizes. "It was short notice."

The woman hollers over her shoulder, "Genevieve, come here. You wouldn't guess who's shown up."

"Oh, no," Doug breathes, before Evie sees a brown haired woman in a dress step out of the garden and walk towards them.

She smiles as she meets them, before she hugs Doug, "Oh. I missed you so much."

He hugs her back, "You too, Mom."

She lets go of him and sees Evie, "Ah. And who might this be?"

"That's Evie," he introduces her. "She's a friend."

"She's a pretty friend."

"Thank you," Evie smiles.

"You're probably taken," she assumes.

"Sort of," Evie admits. "I mean, I could have a boyfriend, but I already have this friends with benefits thing going on with someone else, so…" She half laughs, "It's complicated."

"Well, then uncomplicate it," she encourages. "The sooner you realize he's not the one, the sooner you can get to my little Doug here."

"Mom," he quietly interrupts, before she looks at him. "I'm not really sure if she likes me like that."

"You're sweet," Evie compliments, before faces his mother. "but I have really, really high standards. Like mirrors. I would want to have mirrors."

"Of course," she acknowledges. "Every girl has to have a mirror, and we do have them," she reassures.

"Mom," he says again.

"Come on, pumpkin," she smiles at him. "I've been telling you to get out there, and now that you've brought a girl here I can't ask about her?" She looks back at Evie, "It's just impossible to date here. Everyone here is related, you know."

"Not to make it sound incestuous or anything," Doug frowns, "because it's not." He faces Evie, "She just means that anyone here my age would be related to me."

Evie smiles at him, "I thought that."

"You must have had a long journey," the mother realizes. "Took the train?" Evie nods. "And it will be another three hours back." She looks between them, "How about the two of you come in and wash up for lunch?"

"Oh, uh," Doug glances at Evie, before he faces his mother. "We're actually here for a reason. It's a little, um, time sensitive."

"And you can tell us all about it in the house," she adds on, before she begins to walk and waves an arm for them to follow.

Doug sighs, "I'm sorry." as he sees Evie's horror. "But if it's lunch it's probably just going to be salad or sandwiches." He scratches his neck, "We don't have a lot of choices around here. Oh, and, um, we harvest most things ourselves, so no preservatives." Evie looks down, fidgeting with her nails. "You can just say you're not hungry."

"Because I had such a big breakfast," Evie sarcastically replies, before she shakes her head. "Like she said, six hours would be missing an entire meal. I'm not getting out of this."

Doug places a hand on her shoulder, "It's going to be okay." but then she shakes her head. "Yes. It will. Because, I'm going to be there for you."

She looks off, "You're not Ben."

He takes his hand off of her, "What does Ben have to do with this?"

"You're not him," she meets his eyes. "You're not going to help me the way I need to be helped. You're just going to watch me as I fail."

"Tell me," Doug thinks. "What would Ben do?"

Evie is quiet for a moment, "He would get me out of this." before she looks away from Doug's shock. "He would keep me from suffering through this and then offer me something small later, when it's just the two of us."

"It doesn't get much smaller than a salad," Doug softly inputs, before he sees her begin to cry and wipe the tears away with her hand. "Hey."

"I can't do this," Evie shakily breathes.

"I couldn't do what Ben would do even if I wanted to," he states. "The table is small and filled with people. This isn't the kind of thing where you can just hide food in a napkin to throw away later… which I would ask you not to even try, because throwing away food is wasteful and we really don't have the resources here."

"Then let's skip it," she solves. "We could just go look for my present right now."

"Evie," he begins.

"Ben would do it," she desperately asserts.

"I don't doubt that Ben would skip a meal with you," Doug firmly counters, "but I'm not like you guys. Okay? I can't just skip a meal whenever I feel like it, because I don't feel like it." He nods back towards the cabin, "And these are my parents. Okay? And they're not like Ben's parents. No matter how embarrassing they are, they've always been just really, really nice to me, and I haven't seen them since I left for school this year. So, since I just so happen to be here, I would like to spend a little time with them." Doug sees her guilt and then sighs, placing a hand to his head, "Look. I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you." She looks back at him. "What about a plate of plain lettuce? Can you handle that?"

"Maybe," Evie whispers.

"Okay," he nods. "Let's go, then. Maybe we can still catch my mom before she makes it." He begins to walk, and she follows; however, it's then he stops and faces her. "Oh, um." He hesitates, "If it comes down to it, would you not want them to know about your eating disorder?"

"Yeah. Of course," Evie answers, before she looks off. "But if they have to…" She looks towards the ground, "I guess."

"How about this?" Doug settles. "If things get too hard, you can just say it yourself."

"I don't know if I could." She places a hand on her arm, "I don't think I've ever really said it aloud before."

"There's a first time for everything," he hopefully responds. "And like Jay would say, if you really have to, then you will." She nods and then they continue walking, "So, you will be seeing my mom, dad, and Uncle Doc. My uncle is the one with the glasses." Evie nods again, before they walk up the stairs and open the front door, "Here we go." but as soon as they enter the narrow kitchen the cleanness suggests that no one's cooking.

After they take a few steps a man's voice is heard, "You're just in time." and then Evie looks through the square archway into the dining and living room. On one side of the wooden table there's Doug's mother, a bald man, and then a white bearded man with glasses, and the empty side reveals the large, yellow bowl at the center with a pitcher on either side, one filled with milk and the other filled with ice water.

"Evie," Doug says, before she looks back at him. "We have to wash up."

"Of course," Evie merely says, before she follows Doug to the kitchen sink.

After he turns the water on he comments, "I'm sorry." as he washes his hands.

"Is that dish soap?" Evie questions.

"Don't worry about it." Doug reassures, "It's antibacterial and safe on hands."

When he goes to wipe his hands on the white towel Evie takes the bottle, and as she reads the label she quickly finds that's exactly what it claims. "It has moisturizer?"

"Pretty awesome, right?" he smiles. "Saves us a lot of money."

"Do you not have a bathroom?" she questions.

"We have a bathroom," he evenly answers. "It's in the hallway."

"You have a hallway?" Evie disbelieves.

Doug frowns, "Yes, we have a hallway. As Ben would say in his exhausted, delusional state, that's where the bedrooms live." He shakes his head, "And, yes, we have a bathroom. We're hard on money, not homeless. Legally speaking, this entire forest belongs to us."

"Sorry," Evie whispers.

Doug lets out a calming breath, "It's fine. Just wash your hands so we can eat, please." before she turns to turn the water back on. "And you really don't have to if you can't. Just tell them why you can't if it becomes too hard. Okay? They won't judge you."

"Why am I pretty?"

"What?" Doug questions.

"Your mother called me pretty," Evie says as she forces her hands to stay under the hot water. "Why am I pretty?"

"She was just trying to compliment you," he starts to explain.

"So, I'm not pretty," Evie assumes.

"I didn't say that," Doug denies.

"What is it?" Evie turns to him. "Am I really as bony as people say or do I just have fat in all the wrong places?"

"Evie." He sighs, "You're beautiful just the way you are." before he glances down. "I would kiss you if that would prove it to you, but I don't know how Mal would feel about that and I really don't want to get on her bad side."

"You can kiss me."

"Evie," Doug says again.

"If she can have a boyfriend, so can I," she reasons.

"What happened to you wanting to get a prince and a castle?" Doug reminds her.

Her eyes shine, "I'm not going to get a prince if I'm ugly." and he stares at her in silence. "Are you going to kiss me or not?"

He places a hand to her cheek, and when she shuts her eyes the tears fall. He wipes one away with his thumb before moving in to kiss her, and when the moment is over he reassures, "You are beautiful, Evie. Inside and out, and I don't care if you gain twenty pounds or lose another five." He moves her hair behind her ear, "Nothing could take away your beauty." before he lets his hand drop to his side. "It's in your eyes. They sparkle when you smile."

Evie nearly laughs, "Thank you." before Doug moves to turn the water off.

He smiles at her, "Let's go." and as they walk to the dining room Evie makes herself presentable.

"There they are," Doug's mother comments. "What was taking you kids?"

After they take their seats Doug excuses, "Just talking, you know."

Evie watches as Doug uses the tongs to fill his plate with the green salad, before she cautiously points to the bowl, "What's all in here?"

"It's mostly just lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, and peppers," the brunette answers, and Evie takes the tongs to put a small amount of salad on her plate. "You can have more, you know."

"Mom," Doug interrupts. "She can always have seconds if she feels like it. She doesn't need to have it all on her plate right now."

"Of course," his mother agrees, before she smiles at Evie. "I just wanted to make sure you had a chance to enjoy it."

Evie pokes her fork at the salad, "Is that ranch?"

"Oh, uh, yes," Doug observes her.

"I don't suppose it's the nonfat kind?" Evie questions.

"Around here," Doug slowly informs, "our problem actually tends to be not getting enough calories. So, no. It would just be the regular." Evie nods in understanding. The ranch alone would be a hundred and fifty calories. She moves a piece a lettuce and sees a giant glob of white, then realizing that it's probably more.

"You're not allergic to anything?" the mother worries.

Evie shakes her head, "I don't think so." before she starts to separate the ingredients.

"You know," the woman continues, "if you don't like carrots, then you should have told me. I could have made it differently."

Evie continues to stare at the salad, "I'm just organizing it."

Doug says, "No. She's not a carnivore." and then Evie looks up just in time to watch his father sign again. "No. She's not a vampire." Evie watches as Doug's mouth gapes. "Okay. First things first: it's studied that most vampires aren't actually that thin. A lot of them find it hard to fulfil their hunger, so they just end up eating everything. And secondly, a vampire who is actually eating well wouldn't be so pale." He signs again. "I know you're just asking, but you had to point out those things with her sitting right there?" He does it again. "And what if she could? Or, even if she doesn't, what was I supposed to do? Just act like it wasn't happening?" Evie moves a few more red pepper pieces to their group, before Doug says, "I'm not getting defensive." She uses the knife to cuts up the large lettuce pile into fourths. "She's not my girlfriend. Even if she were a vampire— or any other carnivore— you wouldn't need to worry about that." Evie makes two more cuts, turning the lettuce into nothing more than thin, rectangular pieces. "Why isn't she eating?" Doug repeats, and when he looks at her the others' eyes follow. She feels the tension, clanking her fork down to the plate, before she stands and starts to leave. "Evie," Doug desperately says, before she exits through the front door.

"She has an eating disorder," his uncle answers, before the others turn towards him. "How she was asking about the food, the way she messed with it, her paleness and low weight, it's clearly anorexia."

"Yes," Doug frowns in confirmation, before he shakes his head. "And the only real reason we're here is because it's her birthday and we think someone might have left something for her nearby." He stands up and hopelessly comments, "So, I'm just going to go help her look for it." There's nothing but silence as he makes his way to the door, and when he steps out to the stairs he sits next to Evie.

She unsteadily comments, "You said they wouldn't judge me." as her long, blue hair conceals the tears running down her face.

"They wouldn't have," he softly reassures. "My father was just worried about me."

"He thought I was a vampire." She sadly laughs, "But I don't even remember the last time I had meat." She lets out a long breath. "And blood?

"I know it's probably not the easiest thing to be compared to," Doug slowly comments.

"Not the easiest thing?" she turns to him in disbelief. "Humans see vampires as a disease. Is that what I am? Do I look diseased?"

"Evie, um," Doug hesitates before meeting her eyes, "anorexia is a disease." She looks away from him. "There's a biological component to it." He adjusts his glasses, "Actually, generally speaking, people are more likely to develop an eating disorder if they have a family history of eating or mood disorders." She hunches over as she brings her hands to her eyes, sobbing. "Hey," he hurriedly attempts to reassure her, as he places a hand on her back. "This doesn't define you. You're more than this."

"Am I?" she whispers.

"People get sick." He reassures, "People get sick, and then they get better."

"And if I don't want to get better?"

"Evie," he softly says, before he moves his hand to her shoulder and she turns to him.

"It's been there for me when no one else was." Her light eyeshadow sparkles over her face, but the mascara and eyeliner has not yet smeared. "And I hear it. It's telling me not to talk right now, actually."

"Evie," Doug says again, this time with more concern.

"Sometimes it's my mother's words, but mostly… it's just its own." She looks past him, "And it's different than mine, but…" before meeting his eyes. "Sometimes I can't tell the difference. Sometimes I hear it tell me something, and I think it's my own thoughts." He fails to speak. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"No, Evie," he shakes his head. "Of course, not." He takes his hand from her shoulder, "But I think you need some serious help."

"I don't want help," Evie denies. "I'm fine."

Doug hears her tone, "No, you're not. You're scared." and she looks off again. "What does it feel like?" he inquires. "What's it like to… to deal with what you're going through?"

"Mostly?" Evie starts to tear up. "It's dark. Really dark, but it's there for you. When you need it, it's there." She mumbles, "But it's always there, and it's like it wants me all to itself. It's like don't do this, don't do that. They're going to think you're crazy. It'll make you fat." Evie lets out a long breath, "And no one understands. It's like I could be around everyone, and yet I just always feel so distant, cold, and alone." Doug nods acknowledgement, before she half smiles, "Except for Ben. It's like he just gets it somehow." Her breathing calms, "When we talk about it he's never surprised or frightened. He never makes me do anything either. It's always just this comfort, and these solutions, and… It's just really nice having someone who isn't blocked by that barrier, who can actually see the abyss, and just…"

"Face the darkness with you," Doug quietly finishes.

Evie thinks for a moment, "Well, yeah, actually. Most people don't even see that the darkness exists. They don't see the abyss." She looks down to the ground and sighs, "All they see is a girl not eating, and everyone just seems to think that the solution is to just tell me how sick I look, how beautiful I am, or that I just need to eat… as though that solves anything." He doesn't speak, so she looks back at him, "What is it?"

Doug faces her, but it takes him a minute to say, "I don't think you and Ben are good for each other."

Evie rolls her eyes, "He's with Mal, Doug. There's no need to get jealous."

"This isn't about jealously," he asserts, and then Evie's mouth slightly gapes. "I know you think it's nice to have someone who knows what you're going through, but what help has he actually been to you? Getting you out of meals, telling you what's safe and not safe to drink, and what else exactly?"

"Just ways to keep up my energy," she quietly answers, before her eyes shift. "And this app. He showed me this app."

"What app?"

"The app he uses to document his eating." She explains, "He thought that if I knew what I was eating, then I would be more likely to eat it." He continues to frown. "What?"

"Nothing," Doug irritably responds. "I just didn't know Ben counted calories."

"I think it's like protein and stuff too," Evie comments.

Doug meets her eyes, "So, Ben's been helping you. How've you been helping him?"

She squints in confusion, "What?"

"He used to eat with the guys from tourney every day," Doug informs, "and now he doesn't."

"And you think it's my fault?" Evie's mouth gapes. "You don't think quitting the team, having a girlfriend, being king, or forgetting the English language might have had something to do with that?" He sighs. "You can think that I have a disease, but this isn't contagious."

Doug notes the sternness in her words, "You're right. It's not." and then she eyes him up and down. "I'm just saying that your eating disorder and Ben's weird eating habits, that you two might be making things worse for each other. I mean…" He meets her eyes, "It's not like either of you are telling each other to stop. You're just adding fuel to the fire."

Evie stares at him for a moment, "Ben makes me feel like I'm not alone. If you really want me to get through this, you will let him help me."

Doug slightly nods, letting out a breath, "Okay." before he looks away. "It's getting late. How about we go find your present? We can finish this conversation later."

After he stands Evie stands as well, firmly commenting, "There's no conversation to finish. It's done." He frowns at her. "Ben makes me feel like I'm not alone in this, and you're not going to keep him from me." She stares him down, "Right?"

"Right," Doug uneasily says, before he changes the subject. "So, uh, how do we find your present." and then he watches as she takes the mirror out of her purse. "Cold?"

Evie frowns down at it, "You weren't listening, were you?" but then the word changes to 'walk'. She steps down the stairs, Doug following her lead, before the mirror changes back to the first word. "Oh," she grins. "I get it. You want to play a game." She looks at Doug, "You know this game, right?"

"Yeah," he evenly responds. "I think I do."

She continues to walk forward, before she reads, "Super cold." and turns back to walk around the cabin. "Cold." She looks up, "It's in the woods."

"Can't it just tell us where?" Doug complains. "We're never going to find it like this."

She smiles at him, "What are you saying, that I shouldn't be able to play games on my birthday?"

"No," he sighs.

"Good." Evie walks toward the white birch trees. "Because, I like this game."

* * *

\- First off, just to unconfuse people, the fact that Evie turned the mirror upside down in the bathroom probably doesn't affect what the mirror actually sees. As a spirit it can probably see anyone anywhere (I think in the novel I would only let it see through other mirrors, but I'll think about that again when I get there), which I feel like I should clear up for later on. She probably just turned the mirror upside down to feel more comfortable, like how some people don't like having their pets see them using the bathroom. Secondly, I wanted the reason as to why Mal's hypnotism didn't work on Evie to be that she's wearing contacts and a barrier like plastic or glass would affect the light coming off from Mal's eyes; however, then I remembered Mal's hypnotism worked on Doug while he was wearing glasses, so this is just something else I'm going to have to fix in the novel translation... Although, the hypnotism is going to be less glowing eyes and more like theoretical snake hypnotism so... I'm not sure the same physics would apply. Let me know... In this fanfiction, you can assume that any hypnotism of any kind just wouldn't work on a witch, which would be why Mal's mother told her to respect witches. Now, my original intent with that was more along the lines of a witch's unique abilities and the suffering they've endured over the years for all magical people, but whatever works, right? You probably could have rationalized these mistakes yourself, but as someone who's trying not to be sloppy in writing I had to rationalize it myself too. Hopefully I don't make any contradictions with these statements.


	133. Not Fair

**Not Fair**

 **(Day 105: Saturday Afternoon)**

"Very hot," Doug notices the word change. "So, where is it?"

Evie looks around, until she notices the cliffside, "Maybe in that cave?"

"What cave?"

She points, "That one." but all he can see is a wall of soil and plants.

Doug sighs, "I'm really not in the mood for games, Evie. We've been walking for hours."

"It has not been hours," she denies, before she grabs his wrist and continues to walk. "Come on." She pulls him towards the cave entrance, and her grin widens at the sight of the trove. "There. I told you."

"Evie," Doug continues to frown. "There's nothing there." She frowns back at him, and he gestures to it, "There isn't even a cave. There's nothing."

"No," Evie furrows her brows before looking back at the vanity, rack of gowns, and a number of cedar chests and luggage. "There's stuff there." She turns back to Doug, "You have to see it. The mirror led us here. You're just being mean."

Doug gives her a look and sighs, before he walks over to the cliff's side and places his hand on it. He knocks on it, "See that?" before he looks at her and knocks again. "Hear that?" He leans back on it, "I'm not trying to be mean, Evie. There's just nothing here."

"But the mirror," Evie persists.

Doug steps forward, "The mirror is a spirit, and humans make mistakes." before he lets out a long breath. "Sorry, but you present is probably somewhere else."

Evie looks away from the cave and at the ground, "I'm completely losing it."

He walks up to her, "I can't explain why you see it differently, but I can confidently say that you are in no way crazy… Maybe this has to do with that witch thing. Witches can see things others can't. They've always been seen as crazy people, but they're not."

She places a hand to her head, "I am so tired of seeing stuff that doesn't exist."

It's quiet for a moment, before Doug places a hand on her back, "Come on. Maybe your present is nearby."

Evie nods; however, as they walk forward the mirror emits a beam of shining, white light, and when she turns the mirror up she sees the new words. "Go inside."

"Go inside where?"

"Inside the cave," Evie smiles in realization.

He watches her walk towards it, "Evie. There's no—" but then she disappears. He hurries up to it, "Evie?" He hits the barrier and watches as the soil crumbles off of it. "Evie," he yells. "Can you hear me?" The next moment she reappears at his side, and he turns to her in horror.

Her arms are crossed as she raises an eyebrow, "Worry much?"

"I, uh," he begins.

She shows her phone to him, "This is what it looks like."

It takes him a minute to say, "I see it."

Evie turns back to the cave, "It must be spelled. I tried talking back to you, but you clearly didn't hear me."

Doug examines the picture, "It looks like someone was living here."

"Probably my mother," Evie informs. "She was probably staying here when she was trying to evade capture. It's certainly her stuff in there."

"And now it's yours," Doug smiles.

Evie glances down, "If my mother knew—"

"She's in prison," he points out. "You're the only one who's going to be able to have access to these things."

She nods, "Okay." before she looks back towards the trove. "I'm going to go look through it, see what I can find."

"Good luck," Doug comments, and she offers him a smile before heading back inside. She walks over to the rack of clothes and spots a sparkling, purple dress, but her mother is taller than her. If she were to take this home, she would have to adjust the length before wearing it. She turns away from it and walks past the rolled up blankets on her way to the vanity. She opens one of the drawers and finds some old makeup. It's a lot different than what she uses, mostly just containers of loose powder and a couple jars of paint. She turns one of the jars upside down, and it's clear that the age has caused it to dry up even while contained in the lidded cup. She shuts the drawer and opens a few more, before she notices the leather-bound journal. Evie opens it, but she soon realizes it's in German. She looks at the mirror, "Can you read this?"

"Yes," he writes.

She sighs, "Great. Now all we have to do is translate it one word at a time." He shows her an image of Doug. "Right. Or I could just ask him." She squints in question, "Are you sure?" He shows her a thumbs up. "What is this, even?"

"Potions," he answers.

Evie's eyes shift, "I don't know if Doug should be reading this."

"Nice guy."

"Yeah," Evie whispers. "He's really kind."

"But?"

"But he's too nice." Her eyes shift, "I just don't want to use such a nice guy to see if I like guys or not." She looks back at the mirror, "Besides, he's not a prince." and after a moment it's clear he can't easily respond. Instead, he just shows her a picture of a black wicker chest with red throw pillows placed on top. She looks around to find it, and when she goes to open it her jaw drops, "This is unbelievable." She squeals, "Ah, I love you." He offers a heart back, before she sets the journal on the chest and picks it up; however, the chest immediately falls. "Wow, this is heavy." She lets out a large breath before opting to pull it out of the cave instead, and after she drags it in front of Doug she straightens up and smiles, "Guess what I found."

"What did you find?" he cautiously smiles back. She takes the pillows and journal off before lifting the lid, and her smile widens when Doug's mouth gapes. "That's a lot of money."

"I know, right," she excites. "There must be like a thousand dollars in here."

"Try ten thousand," Doug estimates.

"You think so?"

He slowly nods, "If all the bills are like that, then yeah."

She squeals, "This is so great. You know, I could get my own shop with this." before her grin widens. "And then I could get Mal to make the mirror bigger," she enthuses as she holds it up, "and then we could actually talk to each other."

"Evie," Doug lifts a hand in concern, and when she looks at him her smile begins to slip. "You need to slow down and think about this."

"What's there to think about?" Evie's eyes shift in thought, "I have the money. If I got a shop, then I would have a nice place to design clothes. Mal wouldn't get irritated whenever people interrupt her privacy anymore, and not only that but the mirror. I would finally have a place to put it. I could talk to him. No more of these cryptic pictures and one-word answers. We could just talk together like normal people."

"Evie," he says again. "Even ten thousand dollars isn't a lot in the long term. Renting a building alone would be at least a thousand dollars a month, and if you were to buy one at a higher cost then you would have to pay property taxes." He takes a calming breath, slowing down as he attempts to reason, "You would have to advertise your business, and if you want to make a real profit you would have to be there every day. Or have someone there every day, which would cost money too. And depending on what you're selling, you could need a license." He widens his eyes, "If you're planning on making clothes from leather or fur, then you will be checked on to make sure you aren't involved in animal cruelty."

Evie frowns, tears intruding her eyes, "Why are you trying to ruin this for me?"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't try to get a shop," Doug defends. "I'm just saying that having one while you're still in school might not be the best idea." He adjusts his glasses, "And I know your business has been doing better since that rumor about you liking girls went around, but with your… with Mal dating the king, it's not going to be the only time your reputation affects your business. People are going to gossip. As the phrase goes, there's nothing no one likes better than building someone up than tearing them down. By being friends or whatever with Mal, you're putting yourself in the public eye, and that's not necessarily a good thing."

"What?" Evie sadly laughs. "First you say I shouldn't talk to Ben, and now you're saying I shouldn't be with Mal?"

"It's not like that," Doug denies. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't waste this money. You need to plan. You need to think this through."

"You don't understand," Evie asserts. "If I get the shop, I can have a place to put the mirror in its larger form." She painfully grins, "I've never even seen him before. I've never heard him before. But if I do this, then I could talk to him face to face."

"Evie," Doug slowly responds. "There's also that… you said if the mirror breaks, then he dies. If that's the case, then you're going to want a high quality security system to prevent break-ins and vandalism."

"You think someone would vandalize my shop?" she whispers.

It takes him a moment, "People here don't go out of their way to be mean, but your mother wasn't the most liked either. It's possible that someone could attack you just because you're her daughter."

"That's not fair," Evie yells.

Doug quietly responds, "I know it's not."

She shakes her head, "I still have to do it."

"Evie," he begins.

"Your father wasn't always mute, was he?" she points out. "That scar on his neck. He used to be able to talk."

It takes him a minute to confirm, "Yes."

"So, if you had the chance to hear his voice," Evie desperately asserts, "wouldn't you take it?"

"I mean, of course," Doug furrows his brows, "but I wouldn't risk his life for it." He sees her pained expression, "Just ask the mirror. What does Mark want?"

She looks down and sees it, just barely able say, "Wait." as she begins to sob.

Doug moves in to hug her, "I'm sorry… but it's probably for the best." and he waits for her breathing to slow before continuing. "How about we put the chest back? It will be safer here. You can get it when you're ready."

"Okay," she says in a high-pitched whisper, before she lets go of him. "There was, uh, a dress in there. I was, eh, thinking that, um, if I shorten it and cut the sleeves, then it would look nice on me."

He attempts to smile, "There was a lot of other things in there too. How about you go back inside and see what you can find?"

She nods, "Yeah. Okay." and he helps her lift the chest, until it crosses the barrier and she has to take it from him. She sets it down a few more inches inside, before she lets out a long breath, sits on the woven chest, and hunches over to continue to cry.

The mirror writes, "It's okay." and she just barely sees it through the blurry tears.

"I'm never going to be able to see you," she whispers in doubt.

"You will," he reassures, and a minute later a long word is written downward, just barely fitting the space. "Patience."

"I don't want to be patient." She cries, "I want to see you."

The mirror writes, "Cold." but it takes a moment for her to notice.

When she finally sees it she stands, and the tears immediately stop flowing as she walks further into the cave. It gets warmer and then hotter, before the mirror writes 'cold' again and she turns back towards the wall. She has to move a few objects away from the framed painting to see it, but she partially smiles as she observes it. Evie places her hand towards the face of the man, "Is this you?" She glances down to see his confirmation. "You look so young."

"I died young," he writes.

Evie slowly closes her hand as she brings it towards her heart, "I can't take it back. People would ask questions."

"Camera," the spirit suggests, and with that realization Evie hurries to take her phone out to take a photo of the oil painting.

"You're brilliant," she compliments. "Thank you."

"Welcome."

* * *

When Evie and Doug make it back to the front gate they see his mother and father standing there, and when Doug stops in front of them Evie sets down the beige suitcase. The green eyed woman folds her hands, "We wanted to make sure we had a chance to apologize. You have to believe that if we knew about your, uh, food issues, we would have done our best to accommodate you."

Evie looks at Doug, "You said you wouldn't tell them."

"I didn't," he softly retorts. "Uncle Doc figured it out." His father begins to sign, and he translates, "I didn't mean to point out those things about you. I was just curious, and I was wondering if Doug was keeping a secret from us." He finishes signing, and Doug responds, "Not that I'm not allowed to have secrets, Dad. I'm a teenager. It's a rite of passage."

When he signs again Evie looks at Doug, "What did he say?"

Doug uneasily smiles, "It's kind of embarrassing, but basically, uh, he agrees."

"We really didn't mean to upset you," Doug's mother continues on. "On your birthday, no less."

It takes a moment for Evie to respond, "I think that because it's my birthday, I should have expected it." She eyes off, "It's just, traveling this far and not even having a cake… I thought, I guess, it would be different this year." She meets her eyes, "My friends, at least, should know me better by now, but it's like people don't know how to be happy, talk together, hang out, or celebrate anything without food. It doesn't make any sense."

After Doug's father signs something he comments, "Dad, I don't think that really matters."

Evie turns to Doug, "Why? What did he say?"

Doug starts to speak, but then he lets that breath escape in hesitance, "He was just saying that because everyone needs to it that it's something everyone can relate to and enjoy together."

"You're right." Evie evenly responds, "It doesn't matter." before she looks back at his parents. "All I ever see is people putting food on a pedestal— sometimes literally— and worship it like it's some kind of god. It's like it's the most important thing to them. They don't care about you or anything else. You try to say something important and they ignore you, saying just how good something is and that you should try it, and they think it's okay to eat and talk at the same time. Food is everywhere. You can't go anywhere without seeing it, and it's like eating is mandatory to even pretend to spend any time with anyone else. Because, you wouldn't be spending time with them. All they care about is the food, and they can't hear a word you say. It's like whatever it is about food that makes people so happy, that happiness completely impairs their sense of how others are feeling. You could say how you're feeling straight-out. They don't care. You're the one who's wrong, because suddenly wanting to do anything without food and thinking that there's more to life than food is just so wrong."

It takes a minute for Doug's mother to softly respond, "No. You're right. Life should be about more than just our survival." and Evie lets out a breath before crying again.

She covers her eyes with her hand, "I'm sorry."

Doug's father signs, and he translates, "It's okay." She moves into his shoulder, and he wraps his arm over her back, "It's going to be okay." He checks his watch before looking at his mom, "I'm sorry, but the train is leaving soon. We should be getting going."

She nods, "Of course. Be safe."

He places his hand on Evie's shoulder, and she takes a step back before wiping the tears from her face; however, her breathing is still unsteady. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I just…" She meets his eyes, "I have a headache, I'm tired, and I think at least one of my contacts fell out."

"You can probably sleep those first two things off on the train," he suggests. "Although, you should have some water first. You're probably dehydrated." She merely nods in response, before Doug says goodbye to his parents and they leave the reservation.

* * *

When Evie and Doug enter Evie's dorm she sets the luggage off to the side at the sight of her friends smiling at her beneath the streamers. "Happy birthday," Mal says, before she steps forward. "Now, before you say anything, the Jell-O is only five calories per bowl."

"It doesn't have any sugar," Carlos translates.

Mal gives him a look, "Like we had sugar on the Isle. Don't complain." before she shakes her head and smiles back at Evie. "Anyway, there's lime, strawberry, and orange."

"Let me guess," Doug intrudes, "the Jell-O was Ben's idea."

"Amazing, right?" Mal confirms. "And here I was thinking we were going to have to watch a movie without any snacks."

"Where's Ben, then?" Evie frowns. "I mean, like, is he not coming?"

"He was here." Mal turns toward Carlos, "I think someone stressed him out again."

"Okay." Carlos defends, "All I did was tell him that gelatin is made from animal bones and ligaments."

Mal looks back at Evie, "Like I said, I think someone confused him. He said he had homework to do."

When Doug turns to leave Evie catches him, "Where are you going?"

"I'll be back," he merely says before heading out into the hallway, and when he makes it to his dorm he knocks on the door. Ben checks to see it's him before unchaining the door to let him in, but then he retreats back to the table. Doug sits adjacent from him, "Hey." He doesn't speak. "So, uh, no Chad?"

"The teacher in the library said he had homework," Ben informs as he types a word into his phone. "I thought I should let him do it."

"Right." Doug moves on, "Ben." and he waits for him to look at him. "We need to talk."

He sets down his pencil, "What about?"

"Well," Doug begins. "About you. And Evie." Ben offers a confused look. "She said you've been helping her with her eating disorder."

"Yes," he answers.

Doug lets out a long breath, "But you're not helping her. You're enabling her."

Ben gives him an annoyed look before picking up his phone, pressing the mic, and repeating, "Enabling." all while continuing to stare him down.

Doug looks away, "You're letting her keep her eating disorder."

Ben shakes his head, "You make it sound like it's something she can throw in the garbage. It's not."

"I had her drinking smoothies," he slowly points out. "Now she can't even have salad."

"Drinks are easier for some people," Ben excuses.

"Look. Don't you get it?" Doug struggles to keep his words slow, and he attempts a calming breath. "You're not helping Evie. You're hurting her."

"So, you would not want her to eat at all?" Ben slowly questions.

"She used to eat more," Doug denies. "Whatever you've been doing with her, it's not helping. It's making things worse."

It takes a minute for Ben to comment, "You haven't seen Evie when I've seen Evie. I help. I know I do."

"Ben," Doug lets out a long breath. "I know you think you're helping, but you aren't. You're letting her do this. You're helping her to keep her eating disorder." He pleads, "If you care about her, you would help her get over this."

Ben furrows his eyebrows at him, "You know nothing about eating disorders?"

"What are you talking about?" Doug denies. "We had classes. And I've been looking it up more now that I know Evie."

"Look this up," Ben counters. "No one gets over an eating disorder. There are good days and bad days. That's it."

"People recover," Doug counters. He nods down to Ben's phone, "Would you like to look up the word recover. Maybe you don't know what it means."

Ben looks back at his textbook, "I'm not doing this right now."

"Why not?" Doug speedily speculates, "Because, you might have an eating disorder too, and you don't want to recover just like how Evie doesn't want to recover?"

"Because it isn't fair," Ben shouts at him. "My English sucks. I can't say what I mean."

"Ben," Doug quietly responds, "you need to know that Evie isn't like you. Her goal is not to catch up on calories. Her goal is to not eat at all."

"I know that," Ben glares at him, before he shakes his head and picks up the pencil. "Leave me."

"Ben." Doug sighs, "I'm worried about you."

"People do that," Ben glosses over. "Tell me why."

"It's like you're…" He looks for another word for spiraling, but he can't find one. "I know that what happened with the stairs must feel bad, and you've been doing bad things more. You're going through twenty-four cans a day, you don't sleep unless you're sick, and your eating has been even more… well, less normal." Ben doesn't respond. "This isn't good for you." Doug watches as Ben finishes off one can and opens the next, "Did you even eat today?"

"You know," Ben tiredly answers, "with everything going on, I didn't get to it."

Doug stands up to go find Ben's food stash under the bed, before he grabs two boxes of protein bars and sets them next to Ben's sodas on the table. "Do you plan to sleep tonight?"

"No," Ben stares down at the table. "I don't think so."

"Well," Doug continues on, "what about the party? Evie would want you there."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "Evie would want Mal alone."

"Ben," he counters, "you should have heard the way she talked about you. She cares about you too. She would want you there, even if she didn't have Mal alone."

"They speak English," Ben softly rebuttals. "The movie is in English. I don't speak English. I'm not going."

Doug nods, "Okay, then." before he heads to the door. "See you later." The door clicks shut, and Ben stands to go lock it before a quick trip to the bathroom. He settles back down with his textbook and takes out a six hundred calorie chocolate chip cookie dough protein bar. By the time Doug gets back half of the protein bars are gone along with a few sticks of beef jerky, and a number of wrappers and cans litter the table. Doug walks over and cleans off the table, before he watches Ben work on the same assignment he had been when he'd left. "Can I do anything for you?" Ben shakes his head. "Okay, then. I'm going to go to sleep." Ben doesn't say anything, and after a few more moments of silence the world dims.

* * *

\- **Grammar Help** : does anyone know if you're supposed to set off the phrase "no less" with a comma, or is it circumstantial? I tried looking it up, but I couldn't find a specific link for it.

\- **Next Up** : Ben's family dinner, Mal may or may not get jealous of Chad, and Ben breaks down in class.


	134. Kind and Gentle

**Kind and Gentle**

 **(Day 106: Sunday Evening)**

"So, how's school going?" Ben's mother questions at dinner.

He places some stuffing and mixed vegetables onto his plate, "It's going."

"That's it?" his father questions. "You're not going to say anything?"

Ben gives him a look, "What do you want me to say, that I've been getting math help from Chad? That doesn't sound very reassuring, does it?"

"Honey," his mother intervenes, "we just want to know how you're doing."

"How am I doing?" he raises his eyebrows at her. "I feel like crap. My life is Hell." He looks off, "And there's nothing I can do about it." before he pokes his fork into the vegetables.

"Your life isn't that bad," his father denies.

"Isn't it?" Ben widens his eyes at him, setting his fork down and clutching the table. "I'm sick. We assume you're sick. I've been forced to lie to my friends— the people— and I'm not even fucking human. I mean, how hard would that have been, to just be given a damn normal life and be frickin' human?"

"You can't honestly still be upset about that?" his mother disbelieves.

Ben folds his arm under the one in the sling and leans back in his seat, "What can I say? I liked being human."

"You were never human," his father voices. "All we did was tell you the truth. What would you have had us done, just baby you for the rest of your life?"

Ben's mouth gapes, "You think you've been babying me? Really?"

"You're a beast hybrid," his father reminds him. "To not tell you at some point would have been irresponsible." Ben shakes his head. "And this idea that God or whoever could have made you human is stupid. You were born a hybrid. Nothing can change that."

Ben narrows his eyes at him for a moment, "I know that."

"Honey," his mother sighs, before he faces her and his expression softens. "This can't just be about finding out about what you are. What's this really about?"

His eyes shift down towards the table, "I'm tired… I'm tired of everything." before he looks back up and stares at the brick wall behind her. "I'm tired of arguing. I'm tired of getting sick. I'm tired of lying to everyone…" He looks down again, "I'm just tired of living my life."

"Well, it's no wonder why," his father points a fork at his plate. "You're not eating right. You won't have the energy to deal with anything if you don't eat right. Grab some meat."

Ben glances at the turkey before mumbling, "I don't feel like having meat right now."

His mother laughs, "That's ridiculous. You love meat." but Ben just frowns at her. She shuts her eyes for a second, "Okay. I know that I ask for it to be more cooked than you like, but if it's too dry you can just use the catchup like you always do."

Ben blankly meets her eyes, "I don't feel like having meat tonight."

She closes her hand, her teeth bared in unsureness, before she urgently addresses, "Look. The beast was a carnivorous animal, and that is not something that has changed much even after the curse broke." He looks away from her. "If you are feeling as tired as you say, there is a possibility that you're not getting all of the nutrition you need."

Ben refuses, "I'm not doing it."

"No. You will," his father sternly instructs, before Ben meets his wide eyes and notices the blue vein protruding near his temple. "If you don't eat meat, you will die. That's it."

He doesn't react, "Maybe I'd be better off dead."

"Ben," his mother's eyes widen in worry.

"How dare you say that," his father interrupts, "after everything your mother went through to have you."

"Went through to have any baby," Ben evenly counters. "I shouldn't even exist. She got pregnant three times before she had me. She could have had a girl. She could have had a human child." His eyes shift down, "Something tells me it wouldn't have made a difference."

"If you were a girl, you wouldn't be king," his father points out.

"I never wanted to be king," Ben eyes him in disbelief. "I had no choice."

"And what would you be doing if you weren't king?" his father immediately counters.

Ben's quiet for a moment, "I don't know. I never got the chance to explore that, did I?"

"And he never said he could have been a girl," Ben's mother points out. "He said I could have had a girl instead of him had one of my first pregnancies made it to term." She meets Ben's eyes, "Right?"

"Right," Ben affirms. "Being a girl is definitely the furthest thing from my mind."

"Good to know," his father continues on, eating some turkey. "With the kind of girls you've been dating I was starting to wonder if you have homosexual tendencies."

"Sexuality is different than gender," Ben cautiously proceeds, "but what do you mean by the kind of girls I've been dating?"

"Well, you know," his father uneasily addresses, "just the uptight, assertive type."

Ben glances between his mother and his father, "Right. Because, you've never fallen for that kind of girl before."

"But you know that if you did get those thoughts," he presses, "that you couldn't tell anyone, right?" He takes a drink of milk, "You're king, and sodomy is illegal."

"And I'm a virgin." Ben's mouth gapes, "Do you honestly think the first person I would have sex with would be a guy?" before he shakes his head. "Not that I would do that kind of thing in the first place." He reassures them, "I'm not like that. I have a girlfriend."

"A girlfriend who is known to like girls," his father reminds him. "It's not unheard of that two couples of the same sex pretend to date each other's partners."

"Except that Evie isn't dating anyone," Ben furrows his eyebrows, "so who would my secret boyfriend be?" He looks between them, "That's right. No one. Because, I'm not a homosexual." Ben eyes away, "And neither is Mal. She's just flexible." before he faces them again. "She would have to be with how she has to get heat, right? For her it's not even a choice. It's just how she's been able to survive."

"That may be," his mother expresses, "but I don't understand why she would want to risk that kind of behavior now that she's here. Not only is it illegal if she takes it too far, but she has no need to now. She has you to take care of her."

Ben hesitates, "Mother."

"And even if you weren't up to the task," she continues on, "it's not like prostitution is illegal here. She could just go to one of those sex work places and pay to spend time with a guy, all completely legal."

"Not that she really has the money for that," Ben comments, "and honestly." He hesitates, "I think I would rather have her have sex with Evie than some random guy."

"Is she?" his father concerns.

"No, uh. I don't think so," Ben quickly, yet unsurely answers. "I haven't spent a lot of time with her since… since the accident."

"So, you haven't been giving her heat?" his mother eloquently disbelieves.

"Um," Ben's eyes shift, "no?"

"Well, where's she getting it from?" she questions.

"Somewhere." Ben pauses, "Someone who's not me."

She shakes her head, "Honestly, Ben. She's your girlfriend." before she meets his eyes. "You have a duty to take care of her."

"Unless you want her to get in trouble with the court again," his father suggests.

Ben makes a noise as a breath escapes him, before he attempts to explain, "I'm sorry. It's just that with my English sucking ass right now, I just didn't feel like putting myself in a position where my girlfriend would be chewing my neck off. Literally."

"Sucking ass," his mother repeats. "Seriously, Ben. You're too smart to be swearing so much. You really couldn't think of a more creative way to say that?"

"I bet you it's from spending so much time with that Charming's boy," Ben's father speculates. "That boy's always sworn too much for his own good."

"Never mind that," she bypasses before facing Ben. "What's this about Mal chewing at your neck literally?"

"Well, you know," he uncomfortably answers. "She has that numbing thing in her saliva. After a minute I don't really feel anything." He scratches his head, "So, she makes me feel things by, well, doing that."

"Did you ask her to do this?" his mother seriously inquires.

"No," Ben answers, and then he hears her let out a breath in annoyance. "She has more experience than I do. Who was I to say that she couldn't do it?"

"First off," his mother addresses, "consent isn't just with girls. If you ever feel uncomfortable doing anything at any time, you have the right to tell her to stop." She takes a calming breath, "And secondly, I don't think I like her hurting you like this."

"But it doesn't even hurt," Ben denies. "I mean… not until after the numbing wears off, but isn't it like that with most hickeys? They're nothing but bruises, really."

"Which can cause blood clots," she reminds him. "I hope you know that."

"Son," his father intrudes with suspicion. "Are you sure she isn't just trying to eat you?"

"Why would Mal want to eat me?" Ben questions.

"She's a dragon," he answers. "Dragons eat meat."

"Okay, yeah," Ben confusedly continues, "but supposedly so do I and I've never eaten anyone before. What about you?"

"Ben," his mother continues the subject, "keeping you as a food source would be a very smart thing for her to do if that is her intention." She looks at Adam, "God. Could you imagine if vampires could numb people like that? People could get attacked and not even know it."

"My girlfriend isn't trying to eat me," Ben shouts.

"I think it's something you need to talk to her about," his father opinionates.

Ben's mother voices, "I wholeheartedly agree." before she notices his opposition. "Honey. All it can do is help." She thinks, "You know, while you're at it you should probably discuss the whole heat situation and her relationship with Evie as well."

"Mom," Ben begins.

"No. She's right," his father interrupts, and Ben meets his eyes before he reasons, "If you are really hoping to marry this girl one day you're going to have to meet all of her needs, and if you can't then maybe she's not the right one for you."

Ben's mouth gapes, before he slowly responds, "That's rich coming from you."

"I've had enough of this," his father announces, and he nods down to the turkey. "Now, take some meat and eat."

Ben sternly eyes him for a minute, "No."

His father stares him down, "You either eat or you leave the table."

"Happily," he ceases, before he stands from the table and heads toward the hallway.

"Ben," his mother calls after him, before she gives her husband a look and hurries after her son. At the bottom of the first flight of stairs she turns him around, "Please stay."

"Why?" Ben counters, "He doesn't want me here."

"That is not true," she denies. "He just thinks he can get whatever he wants."

"Like he got you?" Ben insinuates.

"I'm not sure what you're implying," she slowly states.

"He wanted you," Ben elaborates. "He needed some girl to break his curse, he trapped you here, and he got you because he wanted you."

"Honey," she tries to reason.

"And now," Ben continues on, "he wants me to stay here and do whatever he says, but guess what? I'm not you. I'm not going to just give him whatever he wants without a fight."

"You think I never fought?" she exasperates. "I fought. Believe me, but the more time I spent here the more I got to know him. He loves us. You've got to know that."

"He loves you," Ben stares into her warm brown eyes. "He loves you, not me. I remind him too much of himself. Don't you see? He needs to control me, because I'm him."

"You're nothing like him," she reassures. "You're kind."

"Like how he's kind and gentle?" Ben quotes her. "If he's kind and gentle, then I hope I am the meanest, God-damned man on the planet."

"Look," his mother lifts a hand to calm him. "This has nothing to do with love or dominance. This has nothing more to do with than my love for you. As my son, I need to know you're healthy and safe. I cannot let you leave, knowing that you haven't eaten and that I won't likely see you for another week."

Ben nearly denies her, but then his eyes shift off in thought, "Go out with me." He meets her eyes, "None of this stressful dinner arguing." but he sees her rejection clearly. "Please. Just for one night, let me get you alone."

"Ben," she begins.

"It wouldn't have to be tonight," he continues. "It could be any night of your choosing. We could go to dinner, I'll have a nice rare steak, you could have whatever you'd like, and I'll pay. It would be quiet. It would be calm."

"And where exactly would this be?" she entertains.

"Starlit Nights."

"Honey," she shuts her eyes for a second, before she pointedly states, "That is entirely inappropriate."

"How is it inappropriate?" Ben questions. "Father used to take me there. I go there alone all the time."

"It is a romantic restaurant," she reminds him, "and the public has always thought the worst of this family. Can you even imagine what they would think if we went there together without your father?"

"It's the only restaurant I ever go to," Ben quietly excuses. "Father used to claim that it had the best steak anywhere." His eyes shift, "I've never been anywhere else." She observes him before he continues, "What could one time hurt, really?"

"Ben," she carefully responds, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I cannot leave your father here alone. We cannot just leave him like that. He's a part of this family too."

"If he's part of this family," Ben counters, "then he should act like it."

"Ben," she says again, her eyes a bit wider this time.

He takes her hand, "Please. You say you want me to eat? This is how."

She's quiet for a moment, and when she answers it's with sternness, "Using my motherly instincts to strong arm me to go out with you alone is in poor taste." and with that Ben lets go of her hand to run his hand over the back of his head. "I am not some object for you and your father to fight over."

"That's not how it's like," Ben shuts his eyes.

"Oh, really?" she inquires. "Then how is it?"

He sighs before wetting his lips, "I don't know how Father views this, but…" A breath escapes as looks into her eyes, and he calmly continues, "I—" His sentence drops, and when the moment passes he looks everywhere but at her. He doesn't know how to put it into words. It's just her sweet scent, her impressive intelligence, and her strong will. It's everything about her. He just wants her close to him. His eyes settle on her, "I like having you around. All I want is to spend some real time with you." His eyes shift, "I'm your son. Is that too much to ask?"

"Honey." She sighs, "My answer is the same as last time." and she pauses to examine his expression. "You understand. I can't easily do something that would surely stress your father."

"I guess you don't need to see me eat, then," Ben defenses, before he eyes down and notices the stain on the white stone.

"Ben," she begins, before he frowns back at her.

His mouth slightly gapes as he lifts his hand, and with hesitance he slowly reaches for her curly, brown hair. He watches as his thumb and forefinger run down a strand of her hair, before her scent strengthens and he faces her again. If only he could get closer, take in the smell for longer. He examines her features. It would be so easy for him to step forward now, just give into that remarkable scent of hers; however, when he meets her eyes again he notices a figure in his peripheral vision, and when he looks up he finds his father observing them from over the railing. Ben's hand immediately falls to his side, and he slips his thumb into his pocket as he meets her eyes again, "Night, Mother." before he takes a step back, moves towards the second flight of stairs, and slides his hand along the banister as he walks down the stairs.

* * *

- **Danifan3000** Great Theory. The spirit's full identity will be revealed before the end of the fic. Stay tuned.

-Posted: 11/25/2018


	135. Poisonous

**Poisonous**

 **(Day 107: Monday Noon)**

"I hate to disappoint, but I can't say much," Doug answers Mal at the cafeteria table. "He's really been keeping to himself. He doesn't even really talk to me, and I'm his roommate." He adjusts his glasses, "Then again, might have just gotten him mad at him."

"Oh, hey." Mal smiles, "There's Ben." as she sees him enter the room, but her smile immediately falls at the sight of Chad. Doug sees her mouth slightly gape and turns around to see Ben and Chad enter the food line. "Seriously. He couldn't even stand eating one meal with me, but now he's eating with Chad twice in one day?"

"He's probably just still insecure about his English," Doug defends.

"We'll see about that." She stands from the table and struts over to the buffet table, "Hey, Ben." and when they turn around she unenthusiastically addresses Chad. "You." She smiles back at Ben, "What's up?"

He frowns for a moment, "Food. I'm getting food."

"Yes," Mal agrees, before she tilts her head to the side, "About that. You know, I was thinking that maybe you would sit with us." She hysterically grins, "I mean, we are together and we haven't spent any time at all together in what seems like forever."

Ben eyes her for a minute before looking at Chad in question, speaking in French, before Chad responds and Ben looks back at her, "Mal. I want to spend some time with you, but I can't right now."

"It's just lunch," Mal protests before nodding towards Chad. "What, you'd rather eat with him for the rest of your life?" Ben speaks to Chad again, Chad answers the question, and Ben makes a comment with Audrey's name. "What about Audrey?" They swiftly turn back to her, their expressions as though she'd caught them talking about something they shouldn't be.

"Ben was just saying how much you're starting to act like her," Chad raises his eyebrows. "It's only been two weeks. What? You don't have a life of your own?" Mal continues to stare at him, but she fails to speak. "I think you should take a step back. If you really care about Ben, you will leave him alone until he gets better."

"You're just saying that so that you can have him," Mal infuriates.

"He's allowed friends," Chad disarms.

"Friends," she enunciates. "Not a fucking boyfriend. He's my boyfriend. Mine."

He smirks, "Your eyes are green with envy." before Ben moves forward and kisses her.

When they break apart her eyes no longer glow, "Mal. I know this is hard for you, but you really need to give me some time alone."

"But you're not alone," she counters in frustration, before she points a hand at Chad. "You're with him. You've been with him all week, and you've left me completely hanging."

It takes a minute for him to comment, "Can you speak slower, please."

"I said," Mal grits her teeth, "I don't want you spending all your time with Chad."

"He's helping me," Ben defends.

"He's stealing you from me," Mal disputes, before she takes a step back to get a view of Chad. "Seriously. Aren't you with enough people the way it is?"

"Mal," Ben intervenes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Him." Mal gestures to Chad again, "He's—" but then she notices the shock on his face and the clear fear in his eyes. She shakes her head and takes a step back, "Forget it." before she turns around and heads back to her table.

After she sits down Doug slowly questions, "So, what's Chad exactly?"

"He's a greedy closet case who doesn't know how to be satisfied enough with just two people," Mal answers in distain before taking a drink of milk.

"Maybe not for much longer," Carlos comments, and when Mal looks back at Chad she watches as Audrey pulls him away out into the hall. She smiles, "That looks fun." as she picks up her chicken sandwich. "If only we could be there to see it." She turns to Evie, "If only."

"The mirror doesn't have sound," Evie points out.

"It would still be fun to watch," Mal smiles, and with that Evie gives in.

Out in the hallway Audrey brings Chad near a mostly secluded wall, "What's this about you having enough people the way it is?"

Chad makes a face, "Are you really going to believe what a villain's kid says?"

"Mal?" Audrey raises her eyebrows. "Yes." Chad frowns, and Audrey can feel the tears intrude her eyes, "You know, I knew that you had a reputation, but I just thought…" She stares into his blue eyes, "Are you cheating on me?"

Chad places his hands on her shoulders, "I can honestly say that you're the only girl I've been with recently."

"How recently?"

"Since we started dating," he answers.

She lets out a breath of relief, but then she recalls Mal's worry about him stealing Ben from her, "What about guys?"

"What?" Chad grins.

"Mal was worried about you and Ben," Audrey pointedly states.

"Okay." He takes his hands off from her, "Look. There are some guys I connect with better than others, and we both know that where Mal comes from that kind of thing happens. She's probably misreading what Ben and me have as something more than it is."

"So, you're not doing anything with guys either?" she makes sure.

It takes a minute for Chad to frown in answer, "Anything more than a kiss would be pretty much illegal. Why would I do it?"

"Because I'm not putting out," Audrey reasons, before she begins to cry, "So that you can tell me you haven't been with another girl." She whispers, "I'm not making you sin, am I?"

"You're not making me do anything," Chad softly reassures, before he brings a hand to her face. "I love you. You have nothing to worry about." She turns her head, and his hand falls back to his side. "Don't you believe me?"

"I don't know." Audrey looks back at him and questions, "Are you a true Lutheran?"

It takes a moment for Chad to answer, "Yes."

"So, you believe in the Trinity God?" she gets a grip of herself.

"Yes," he quietly answers.

"Do you believe that homosexuality is an unnatural act?"

His eyes shift, "It happens in nature. Animals do it. You know that, right?"

"But we're not animals," Audrey disputes. "God has a plan for us. He made us separate from the animals. We're better than them. He gave them to us to take care of." She takes a breath and asks again, "Do you believe that homosexuality is an immoral act forbidden to us by God?"

"Yes," Chad can't help but answer.

"And that you will spend eternity in the hellfire of damnation if you do it?" she asserts.

He gulps before answering, "Yes. I do."

Back in the cafeteria Doug shakes his head, "You're sick." as he notices them all seeming to smile. "How can you honestly enjoy watching this?"

"Human nature," Mal evenly states.

"But you're not even human," he points out.

"Which makes it apply even less to me," she counters, and he just gives a look of disbelief. "What? People laugh when others get hurt all the time."

"Because it's something that the ape family has inherited from their common ancestor," he informs her. "We use laughter to let people know that we're not hurt, that the play or whatever we're doing is okay to continue. But they're not laughing. You don't see them laughing, do you?"

The sternness in his voice makes the silence afterward seem even more desolate, before Carlos comments, "Where we come from people get hurt all the time."

"So, what? You're desensitized to it?" Doug questions.

"Or we're just glad it's not us," Jay solves.

Doug shakes his head again, "Do what you want." before he picks up the apple and stands from the table. "I can't do this with you guys."

"Doug," Evie says.

He hears her sad tone and turns around, "I'm sorry, Evie. I am. But I can't." before he steps back to leave.

* * *

"Your heat readings are even lower than they were last week," the therapist notes.

"Ben got injured," Mal excuses. "We haven't spent a lot of time together since."

"But you have other heat sources, don't you?" she seriously questions.

Mal glances down, "There's Evie, but she's not as warm as Ben is." before looking towards the door. "Mostly, I've been depending on hot baths and showers." She meets her blue eyes, "I could get a lighter, but I'm not fireproof. If I touch it too much, I could still get blisters."

"Is there anything else you can think of?"

Mal takes a moment, "Reptiles sun bathe, but this isn't the desert. Actually, it rains here a lot." before she eyes the coffee table. "Ben got me a heat lamp, but it doesn't help that much." She thinks, "Maybe if I had a sleeping bag, but that would only trap the heat I already have."

"And you really can't generate your own heat?" the brunet inquires.

Mal shakes her head, "Wish I could. I would love to drink cold drinks, not have to spend every day wondering where I can get heat and when, or just feel warm in general." She glances down, "But I can't, and I won't ever." before facing her. "Humans are lucky."

"Do you wish you could be human?"

It takes a minute for Mal to answer, "No. It's not who I am." and her eyes shift. "They don't make any sense anyway. My mom always complained about how they have such a short memory and keep making the same mistakes over and over again." She takes the purple flower notebook back, "Life would be easier without them."

"You think so?" she evenly asks.

"In the long term," Mal frowns. "I mean, my mom is only like three hundred years old. I can only imagine how annoying humans must get over a thousand." She slightly laughs, "It's no wonder she tried burning the continent to the ground." Mal rubs her hands together before blowing into them, "I wish I had fire breath."

"What would you do if you did?"

"For starters, I would make myself a nice warm bed," she conjures. "Light a forest up, maybe, and just sleep there for a few hours, nice, toasty, and warm."

"And then what?" she prompts.

"Well," Mal leans back on the couch, "lighting Chad's pants on fire sounds like fun."

"Who's Chad?"

"You know," Mal nods, "Chad Charming." She looks up toward the ceiling, "He's been cozying up to Ben. I don't like it."

"And why's that?"

"Because," Mal meets her eyes. "Ben's mine. He can't have him."

"You seem to be very territorial over him," the therapist notices.

"He's not texting back," Mal complains. "He said he would text back, but he never did. We've barely spoken since he got out of the hospital. It's just been him being with stupid Chad, speaking stupid French, all stupid day long."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"It makes me feel like getting Ben alone and remind him who I am."

It takes a moment for her to question, "What do you mean, remind him of who you are?"

"Well, his girlfriend," Mal informs, before she crosses her arms. "I'm not just some hybrid he can use to make himself feel better."

"And how would you remind him of that?"

Mal scoots to the edge of the couch and leans forward, glowing her eyes, "You will not tell anyone what I'm going to say during the next ten minutes." The therapist waits for her to answer, before Mal leans back again, "So, Ben's always in his room, right? He doesn't like people. People are awful. But then again, he's been in the library with Chad… I almost have to get rid of Chad." She shifts her eyes up before clapping her hands, "I've got it. I'll paralyze Chad and while he's out of the way I'll go to Ben's room, I'll wear something so that he won't just blow me off, and then I'll have him all to myself."

"Paralyze Chad Charming?" she raises her eyebrows.

Mal waves it off, "Don't worry. It's temporary." before she thinks aloud. "But I'm probably going to want to get him to digest the venom so that it actually affects his entire body. And it would have to be a lot." She smiles, "I bet I could slip it into a drink."

"You realize," the therapist warns her, "that poisoning a royal is a capital offense."

"And yet someone could poison me and have no one blink an eye."

"I'm just saying," she continues, "that you shouldn't give into these impulses of yours. There's better ways to deal with your situation."

"Like what?" Mal skeptically questions. "Wait for Ben not to care about me at all?"

"Or," she suggests, "you could put your emotions on paper, express yourself in a healthy way. You draw, don't you?"

"I mean, yeah."

"So," she concludes, "how about we do this. You can draw a picture that depicts your current feelings, you can bring it here next week, and then we can discuss it?"

"Or," Mal counters. "I could just solve the reason why I'm upset in the first place."

The woman is quiet for a minute, "Do you consider yourself a tactical person?"

Mal shrugs, "I guess."

She nods, "So, tell me what happens after you paralyze the prince of Charmington? What happens to him?"

"Like I said," Mal irritably comments, "it will wear off."

"Yes," she agrees, "but what would he do after that? How would he react?"

"I mean," Mal thinks, "he would probably just think it was a snake or something."

"Without any bite marks?" the therapist counters.

"Well," Mal unsurely starts.

"As a prince, surely he would be sent to the hospital to get a full exam." She puts forward, "If they need to find the anti-venom, then they would have to find out what caused it. I doubt your specific venom would be recognized."

"And if they knew dragon venom existed and just so happened to be able to recognize it," Mal thinks ahead, "I'm the only thing around that's a dragon or, uh, part dragon."

"Which would also be fairly obvious if you were to give the drink to him yourself," she quietly points out.

Mal furrows her eyebrows at her, "Why do you keep poking holes in everything I want to do? It's like you're leaving me with no plan or purpose to grip to at all."

"My only intention is to get you to think about why it is you do the things you do," the brunette lets her know. "My overall goal is to get you to understand that humans are not that different from you, and doing something like this would greatly undermine that hope."

"It's not just with humans, though," Mal loudly disbelieves. "It's with everything. Everything I do or complain about, you take the other side. Am I that wrong?" She painfully smiles as she laughs, "I mean, I am the last member of my species. Maybe this heat issue I'm having is just a sign from nature that I was never supposed to exist."

"Or, maybe," she counters, "the reason why you have this heat issue is because you are so hostile toward humans."

"Hostile?" Mal exasperates.

"If you had a better relationship with humans," she suggests, "then you would have an easier time getting people to give you heat."

"I am a dragon hybrid with fairy magic," Mal asserts. "It is only by choice that I've been dealing with being cold like this. I don't need anyone's permission to do anything. I could easily make a human give me heat if I wanted to."

"Which is exactly what got you into trouble in the first place." Mal narrows her eyes at her, but she's not impressed by the intimidation. "I realize that reptiles aren't traditionally social animals, but if you respect your boyfriend and his position as king of this country then you will make a strong attempt to get along with society."

Mal glances at the clock and smirks, "And if my boyfriend respected me, he wouldn't be completely ignoring my need for heat." before she stands. "Bye-bye, Janis."

* * *

On the walk home Mal stops in front of the liquor store, and with a slight shake of the head she continues on; however, it's then she hears the little girl, "Hey. It's the king's girlfriend." and she turns to see the blond point at her.

The mother keeps her from walking forward, "Not too close." as she eyes over Mal and places her arm around the girl. "She's poisonous." Mal stares at them as they walk away, and the mother gives a final look over her shoulder before hurrying off.

After they exit from view Mal continues to walk ahead, but suddenly she halts and rolls her eyes, twisting back around, triggering the bell to the store, and eyeing over the bottles as she searches for the cheapest thing she can find. She finds a bottle of red wine for five dollars and brings it to the counter. "Good afternoon," the brown haired man greets. "Will this be all for you today?"

"Yeah," Mal answers.

He rings it up, "Okay. That will be six dollars."

"What?" Mal furrows her eyebrows. "It said five."

"There's a twenty percent tax on alcoholic beverages," the man smiles in explanation.

"Tax?"

"Sales tax," he informs her. "It's supposed to discourage people from buying it."

Mal narrows her eyes, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Just be grateful that you aren't getting a hundred dollar bottle." He grins, "If you were, then you would be twenty dollars short."

Her mouth gapes, "Why the hell don't you have the sales tax included in the price?"

He leans on the counter and whispers, "We just really like to confuse people with math."

She huffs, "Funny."

"I thought you might like that."

Mal gives him a look, "So, what's the real reason?"

He glances around the empty store, "I'm going to let you in on a little something here." before he maliciously smirks. "You don't have to break the law if you know how to use it to your advantage." She offers an unimpressed look. "For example, there is no law that says you need to include the tax into the sale's price, and I don't do it because there's these people, you see." He gestures, "Let's call them Richie. Okay. So, Richie comes in here and buys seven bottles of wine for his Christmas party. Now, because he's Richie he will see that he's paying let's say seven hundred dollars, but he won't bother to see that I'm getting an extra hundred and forty dollars out of him." He evenly continues, "The fact of the matter is that people who are rich and have large social gatherings are more likely to buy wine than people who don't."

Mal frowns, "Smart for you. Not so good for me." before she shakes her head. "I'll be back. Just give me a minute." She turns around to walk out of the store, spending the next half hour scouring the alleyway for change, and when she finally finds the last penny she heads back into the store and places the dirty coins on the counter. "Sorry for the mess, but not everyone can be Richie."

He takes a disinfectant wipe and cleans the coins as he counts them, "The king couldn't spare six dollars for his girlfriend?"

"He's been busy," Mal bypasses.

The brown eyed man places the bottle and receipt into a paper bag before handing it to her, "Good day."

"Happy thieving," Mal calls back as she exits the store, before she slips into the alleyway and takes the wine out of the brown bag. _So, then what? You've just been faking it since then?_ She recalls how Ben had placed the ring on her forefinger and kissed her hand, as she sees the gold insignia on her finger. _I haven't been faking anything._ She sighs and puts the bottle back into the bag, and she walks back toward the sidewalk; however, it's then that she sees the blue poster on the brick building titled _Fit to Rule_ with a picture of Ben in uniform. The bulleted list alongside his photo declares: frees prisoners, doesn't imprison terrorists, lets girlfriend use magic, doesn't support sexual assault victims, and ordered to stop fighting the Camelot dragons. All of these things happened because of her. They hate him because of her. She takes the bottle back out and uncorks it with her teeth, before she lifts the red wine up to Ben's picture and frowns, "To peace and moving on with our lives."

* * *

"But that means your parents get to come home," Audrey counters. "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"I guess," Lonnie answers. "I don't know. It's not like my dad will anyway. He's the general. He's in charge of boot camp, and I know my mom is just going to hate spending all of that time in the field for nothing."

"Your parents aren't even a part of Camelot's territory." Ruby opinionates, "They shouldn't even have had to fight the dragons anyway."

"Okay. First off," Lonnie informs, "the army is meant to help serve the country. That means the entire country. And secondly, they were just in charge of carrying cargo. It's not like they were actually sword fighting those monsters."

"Speaking of monsters," the blond girl notices, and the other two see the purple haired girl in the alleyway, one hand on the brick building and the other on her knee as she vomits.

"Ewe," Audrey can't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Do you think we should help her?" Lonnie worries.

"Why should we?" Audrey questions. "It's not like she'd ever help us." She notices the nearly empty wine bottle in her hand. "Besides, it's her fault she chose to get drunk."

"Audrey," Lonnie reminds her, "no one chooses to be an alcoholic, and didn't Jesus say something about not judging others and helping everyone? I would think you above anyone else would want to help her as much as I do."

"Wait," Ruby interrupts. "Mal's an alcoholic?"

Audrey gives her a look, "What? We didn't tell you?" She shakes her head. "Huh." Audrey looks back into the alleyway and watches Mal lean her arm across the brick as she rests her forehead onto it, "Maybe we should help. God knows she never helps herself."

After they glance at each other they walk forward, and when they walk into the shadows Lonnie inquires, "Mal. You okay?"

She groans, "Feel like hell."

"Well, you're a dragon," Ruby brings up. "That should be expected."

Audrey comments, "You would think that you would have stopped drinking after that last wine you had got poisoned."

"And I would think prissy princesses would be too busy making themselves look good to spend time with a terrorist," Mal tosses back.

Audrey frowns, "Your insults are terrible right now."

"Your outfit is terrible," Mal argues.

Lonnie grabs the wine bottle from Mal, before Audrey shakes her head, "You haven't even looked at us. Don't you say I look terrible."

"Mal," Lonnie sighs. "Water is the first ingredient in this."

"It is?" Audrey questions, before takes the bottle to examine the label herself. "This must have been some really cheap stuff."

"Why does it matter if it has water in it?" Ruby asks.

"Wow. We've really kept you out of the loop," Audrey responds in surprise.

"She's allergic or something," Lonnie answers. "She can't have it."

Mal turns around and leans her back onto the wall, "I don't feel good."

"No kidding," Audrey sarcastically comments. "Drinking something you're practically allergic to. What were you trying to do, kill yourself?"

Mal's eyes shift, raising a finger, "To be fair, I didn't know there was water in it."

"Everything has water in it," Audrey disbelieves. "What? You didn't bother to check?"

"Milk doesn't have water in it," Mal disproves.

"That is so not my point." Audrey takes a step forward, "Why are you doing this?"

Mal points towards the poster and then Lonnie takes it down, "They're discrediting Ben."

"He doesn't want me," Mal ponders. "I'm too much trouble. He's just too nice to say, so spends all his time with Chad and ignores me."

"Mal," Audrey sympathizes, "it's not you. Ben ignores people. Remember? We've talked about this."

"He said I'm like you," Mal recalls. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"He's probably just being defensive," she quietly responds.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Mal asserts. "He might have his stupid Chad and French, but—" She looks around, "Where'd my wine go?"

Lonnie hides the last two inches behind her back, "It's gone. You drank it all."

Mal smiles at the fear in her voice and sings, "You're lying." before she steps toward her and glows her eyes. "Now. Be a good girl and tell me the truth. Where'd my wine go?"

"It's behind my back," the brown eyed girl answers.

"Give it to me."

After Mal gets the bottle back she downs the remains of it before letting it drop from her hand, "And now I have nothing. Again."

"What about Evie?" Lonnie remembers. "You still have her."

Mal laughs at the absurdity, "Not to talk smack about my best friend or anything." as she goes to lean on Ruby's shoulder. "But Evie's having major performance issues right now, I'm telling you. You know? It's like any heat she makes immediately goes away. Forget about me." She turns her head and looks over Ruby, "Aren't you pretty." before he touches her hair and moves a portion out over her shoulder. "So long. You'd be a great pet."

"A pet?" Ruby uncomfortably asks.

"You know," Mal slowly answers as she messes with the ends of her hair, "just someone to cuddle with and keep me warm." She gestures a hand as she turns to Audrey, "You know, my mom used to have a human, but then Jafar got jealous and killed him."

"Okay. Well," Audrey firmly continues on, "slavery is illegal here, sooo."

"So, would you like to be my pet?" Mal smiles at Ruby.

"No," she immediately answers.

"Are you sure?" Mal questions again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she loudly opposes. "And my mom's a lawyer, so if you don't get off me this second I'm going to call her."

"Fine, then," Mal takes a step back, before she turns toward Audrey and wraps her arms around her neck. "What about you? Would you like to be my pet?"

"First off, ewe. Your breath is terrible," Audrey can't help but point out. "And you hate me, remember?"

"Hate is such a passionate word," Mal's eyes shift, before she smiles and places a finger to Audrey's lips. "Which I do not have for you at all."

"No," Audrey furrows her eyebrows, "I would not like to be your pet." She takes Mal's arms off of her, "We need to get her back to the school."

"We can't walk her back," Lonnie logically concludes. "She would never make it."

"And it would be too public," Audrey realizes.

"So, what then?" Ruby questions. "Should one of us go get your car and bring it here?"

"Definitely not," Audrey disagrees, before she shakes her head. "No. If she gets sick again, it can be in Ben's car." She takes out her phone, "He's the one who's been ignoring her, making her drink, and refusing her heat. She's his problem, not ours."

"Ben hasn't exactly been his best lately either," Lonnie defends.

"Shh," Audrey furrows her brows at her, but the phone is answered and she smiles. "Hey, Ben. How are you?"

He unsurely answers, "Good. You?"

"I have your girlfriend," Audrey plainly states. "We need a car."

It takes a minute for Ben to get over the urge to ask questions, "Where?"

"Outside the wine store on Main Street."

"Hold on," Ben frustrates. "Where on Main Street?"

"The wine store," Audrey grins. "Mal thought she would buy some wine and then drink it all, because you don't want her anymore."

"The wine store, you said?" Ben makes sure.

"Yes."

"What are you doing at a wine store?" he accuses. "You know Mal can't have that."

"Hey," Audrey shouts. "It wasn't my idea."

"Did she drink any?" Ben questions.

"I just told you she did," Audrey reminds him. "What? Have you not been listening this entire time?"

"So, first you make her drink at dinner, and now you're taking her to the store?" Ben furiously disbelieves.

"I didn't do any of that," she nearly interrupts. "Just get your stupid car here. God." She hangs up on him, letting out a huge breath as she shakes her head, "I'm telling you, some guys. It's just in one ear and out the other." She gestures, "I am so glad I'm not dating him anymore."

"He did treat you real bad," Ruby acknowledges.

"Thank you," Audrey stresses, before she notices Mal clinging onto her arm. "I swear, she's worse than a cat."

Lonnie steps forward to take Mal's hands off of her, "Sorry, but I really don't think she likes that."

"Lons," Mal says, before she holds onto Lonnie's arm.

"Maybe you can be her pet," Audrey evenly suggests, but Lonnie says nothing in return.

* * *

\- So, because there are so many chapters in here, I just thought I should mention that the toast Mal makes to Ben's poster is a quote that Audrey had said during their dinner truce... Not that it matters too much. Oh, and, for the record, I am very much a cat person. I just thought Audrey wouldn't be.


	136. If I Wanted to, I Can

**If I Wanted to, I Can**

 **(Day 107: Monday Night)**

After Ben checks to see who it is and opens the door Mal narrows her eyes at Audrey, "This isn't my room."

"What are you talking about?" Audrey counters, "Of course it is." before she pushes Mal through the door and smiles at Ben. "She's your problem now." She grins in unsureness, "Oh, and— just so you know— she's been looking for a pet, so you're either going to have to start putting out or you and Evie are going to have to find someone who can."

Ben offers a confused look as she leaves, before he shuts the door and turns to Doug, "What did she say?"

It takes him a moment, "I think she was saying that if you can't give Mal heat, then you're going to have to find someone else to do it."

Ben rotates to Mal, "You can sit." and after she does he and Doug sit across from her. "So, you drank wine." She continues to frown at him. "Why?"

"Why do ya think?" she crosses her arms.

Ben slowly shakes his head, "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."

Mal shifts her eyes, "It was there." before she meets his hazel green ones. "And you weren't." She glances at the table, "You're never there."

"I told you this morning," Ben attempts to reason, "I want to spend time with you, but I can't right now."

"Because you're too busy with Chad," Mal finishes.

"No," Ben loudly denies, before he sighs. "Because of homework. I have stuff."

Mal recalls the unanswered texts, "Do you even like me?"

"Mal." Ben leans forward, "I love you." before he takes her hand. "I—" It's cold as ice, "You're freezing." and he covers it with his other hand.

"You weren't there," Mal merely frowns, before Ben shakes his head.

"What about Evie?"

"Evie?" Mal snickers, "I might as well be getting heat from a milkshake."

"She gave you heat all the time," Ben disbelieves.

"Yeah." Mal rolls her eyes, "She used to be a hundred and twenty pounds too. Things change." She twists the gold ring on her finger, "Obviously."

"Please keep that on," Ben uneasily says as he holds it in place. He looks into her eyes, "I love you. I do."

"Then you'll spend some time with me," Mal concludes, "alone."

He lets go of her hands, "I can't right now."

"But you said," Mal fiercely begins.

"And I do," he promises. "But I'm busy."

She leans back and huffs, "You're always busy."

"You really can't give her five minutes?" Doug questions. "For just some heat."

"No," Ben gives him a stern look, before he shakes his head at Mal. "I have stuff too. You can't have me do everything for you."

She lifts her head, "Fine. I won't." before she stands and shuffles out of the room.

"Wait. Mal," Ben calls after her, but by the time he does she's already left.

Doug watches as Ben slams a fist onto the table, "You do know that you just gave her permission to cheat on you, right?"

"Yeah," Ben shifts his eyes in annoyance. "I got that."

"So, why can't you spend time with her?" Doug unsurely questions.

It takes Ben a minute to say, "Reasons."

"Care to share them?" he lowers his head to the side to see Ben's face.

He stares off, "Mal is… She's on top, I guess, and… I would just like say what I mean when she's doing that stuff to me."

"I didn't think you guys were having sex," Doug comments.

"We don't," Ben reassures, before he shakes his head again. "And now Mother and Father think she's trying to eat me."

"Well," he slowly says.

"She's not," Ben fails to even entertain the notion. "She didn't even have rare meat until I gave her it. She's not eating me." He glances down, "I don't think so, anyway."

"But you do know that some hybrids do that, right?" Doug makes sure. "That's part of why the whole donor program even exists."

"Yeah," Ben answers in frustration. "I know."

He hears Ben's stomach growl, "Speaking of eating, how are you?"

"Fine," he bypasses, before he looks back at his psychology textbook and a small growl emits from his throat. He covers it with a cough, "I need to get this homework done."

"Maybe a couple protein bars or beef sticks?"

Ben turns toward him with widened eyes, "I eat enough. I'm sick of it. I have stuff to do."

"Ben," Doug frowns. "I know you say food doesn't make you feel full, but at the least it's keeping you at a good weight. You still need to eat."

"You didn't see me today?" Ben nods to the door, "I ate three times. Now, leave me."

"Maybe it wasn't enough," Doug suggests. "Or not the right things." He meets Ben's eyes, "How much meat did you have today?"

Ben glares at him, "Go or I'll bite you."

"Because," Doug continues on, "I've seen you eat a lot of meat, and I remember how back when the school didn't serve meat on Fridays you would always get moody."

"Are you autistic or something?" Ben furrows his brows. "I said go or I will hurt you."

Doug observes him for a minute, "I don't believe that."

Ben narrows his eyes before turning back to his assignment, and he places his elbow onto the table as he rests his head onto his first, "Someone is going to kill you one day."

"Probably," Doug accepts, before Ben shakes his head and attempts to continue his assignment. "Do you feel like biting me?" he asks in curiosity.

"Right now?" Ben continues to stare into the book, trying to ignore the tense pain in his teeth, "I feel like biting anything." A minute later Ben watches as Doug brings back a box of beef jerky strips, and he frowns at him, "But I won't."

Doug sits down, "Come on." before he eyes the label on the back of the box. "It's high in protein and iron. That has to do something for you."

"I ate those at— in the…"

"The hospital," Doug helps.

Ben gives him a look, "I'm sick of them. I don't want them."

"Then how about we go down to the kitchen and get you something better?"

"I'm tired of meat," Ben stares. "I'm not doing it."

"Ben," Doug begins.

"No," he interrupts. "If everyone can not have meat, then I can too."

He offers a serious look, "Ben. You're hybrid, probably a carnivore."

"I don't care," Ben shouts.

"If you're really a carnivore," Doug slowly assesses, "then you need meat."

Ben lets out a heavy breath, "Stop saying that."

"Saying what?" He sees Ben's stress, "Carnivore?" before he watches Ben take the soda, shake it to test its emptiness, before he finishes the last drop and sets it down to open a new one. He gulps down a large portion of the new soda, before he sets it down with his hands rapped around it. His breathing is unsteady, and the can shakes. "Ben?" Doug worries.

"Everyone talks about it," Ben whispers, "but I'm not—" He tightens his grip onto the can and wets his lips, "I'm more than that." He looks up, and Doug can see the tears in his eyes. "Stop acting like it's me. Please."

"Ben," Doug unsurely begins. "All I did was say you need to eat meat."

He looks off, "Forget about that. I'm not doing it."

"You have to," Doug asserts.

"I will die first," Ben swiftly turns to meet his eyes.

"Ben," he seriously continues. "Your body won't let you. It wants to live."

"Well, maybe I don't," Ben counters.

"Ben." Doug lifts a hand to reason, "You're king. You can't kill yourself."

He laughs, "Like that stopped anyone."

"Ben."

He hears the panic in Doug's voice, "Don't worry. I won't." Ben eyes back at the soda can, "I'm just saying." before he traces his thumb over the metal rim. "If I wanted to, I can." He lifts up the can to test the amount, "And no one can stop me." before he finishes it off.

* * *

When Jay opens the door Evie says, "Hey."

"Hey," he says back before looking into the room.

"You didn't happen to bring Mal's sleeping bag here, did you?" she questions.

He turns back to her, "Yeah. Of course I brought it."

"I think we need it."

He nods, "Be back." before he shuts the door.

Evie looks down the hallway and sees a group of guys peeking at her as they talk, before a tall one with buzzed brown hair and blue eyes walks up to her, "Hey."

"Hey," she quietly says back.

He places a hand on the wall, "So, the guys and me were wondering if you're single."

She takes a step back, "Um." but he just takes another step forward.

"I mean, you're not still that dragon's sex slave, are you?"

"Sex what?" Evie furrows her thin eyebrows. "No."

"Good. Because, you know, I was thinking that maybe you'd like to go out with me."

"I don't think so."

"Why?" he questions. "It's because I'm not a girl, isn't it?"

"Well, uh," Evie stammers.

"You know, I was also thinking," he interrupts, "that island must have just been filled with horrible guys. It's no wonder you hate them. You just haven't met the right one yet."

"I don't hate guys," she denies.

He grins, "No. Of course, you don't. You still want us, don't you?" before he places his hand on top of her hip. "Do you waist train? It looks like you do." He leans forward, and when she turns her head to the side she can feel the hot breath near her ear. "You know, I think that is just so hot."

"Hey," a loud voice erupts, and Evie sees Doug stride toward them before the guy straightens up enough for Evie to get some space.

"Hey, miner," the guy looks down on him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Doug furrows his brows at him.

"I was just getting acquainted with this beauty."

"Well," Doug adjusts his glasses, "I don't think she liked it too much."

He laughs, "Oh, really." before he leans forward. "And just who do you think you are?"

"Me?" Doug's eyes widen in surprise, and the other guy nods in response as though he's mentally challenged. "Well, uh." He straightens and stares up at him, "I'm her boyfriend."

"Oh. Are you now?" he smirks.

"Yeah," Doug makes a face.

"Prove it."

"What?" he unconfidently asks.

"Prove she's your girlfriend," he asserts, but Doug's mouth opens wide without response.

After Evie steps toward Doug and spins him around she places her hands to his cheeks and kisses him for a long minute, so long that he's actually given the opportunity to kiss back and bring his hands onto her shoulders. She lets go, and he releases a breath, "Heigh-ho, um." before turning back to the tall guy. "I'm not really one for public displays of affection, but, uh, there you go."

"Figures a lesbo would go for the skinny guy," he complains before taking a step back and raising a finger. "Don't gain any muscle. She might kick you to the curb."

After they watch him walk away another voice chimes in, "Nice job." and Evie turns to see Jay's surprise.

"The blanket," she reminds him.

"Right." He hands her the grey and lavender rolled up bag, "Here."

"Thanks." Jay nods, but before he shuts the door Evie makes a noise in remembrance and he opens it again. "You should know… Mal slipped up again."

He shuts his eyes for a moment, "Is she okay?"

"Yeah." Evie thinks, "She's just really opinionated right now."

He nods, "I'll talk to her tomorrow. Thanks for telling me."

She attempts to smile, before the door closes and Evie notices the guys continuing to stare at them, "Okay. Seriously. Who is that?"

"Oh, um, Lucas," Doug informs. "He has a thing for princesses."

"I think he's in my English class," Evie recalls.

Doug takes her hand, "Well, he won't be bothering you anymore." before they start down the hall.

She lets out a breath of relief, "Thank you. Really. I don't know what I would have done if you didn't show up."

"It seemed like Jay was ready to step in if I couldn't," he supplies.

"Still. Thank you."

He smiles, "No problem."

When they get to the stairs Evie questions, "What were you doing anyway?"

"Oh, um." He remembers, "I was going to make Ben a protein shake."

"And what?" Evie questions. "Slip blood into it?"

He halts, "No. Um, I want him to trust me." before he gives her a look. "Why would I be putting blood into it?"

"Because all he's eaten all day is fruit and bread," Evie answers, "and you can't exactly hide meat in a drink."

Doug scratches his head, "I was just thinking a lot of peanut butter."

"Hmm," Evie hums. "I guess that works too."

"Blood doesn't even have nutritional value for humans," Doug recalls.

"Yeah. For humans," Evie points out. "Mal's mother used to drink a gallon of it a week." Her eyes shift, "And that doesn't even count whatever she was doing with Jafar."

"Yeah, um," he uneasily states, "I would rather not think about two villains mucking around with each other."

"My point is," Evie continues, "are you sure peanut butter is going to work for him?"

"He has protein bars," Doug justifies.

"So, why isn't he just eating those?" Evie questions.

"Well," Doug begins, and it takes him a minute to continue, "maybe a drink would just be easier for him right now. I mean, you get those days, don't you?"

"I still think you should put blood in it," she counters.

He sighs, "And what if he doesn't like it? What am I supposed to do, tell him?"

"And if he does like it?" Evie contradicts. "Would you tell him, then?"

He shakes his head, "I'm not doing that."

She smiles, "You're his roommate." before she continues down the stairs.

He follows her, "Hey. It's not like he's a vampire."

Evie's smile widens, "Uh huh." before she kisses him on the cheek. "Night, boyfriend."

Doug watches as she enters the girl's hallway, and he whispers, "He's a carnivore, not a vampire. There's a difference." before he continues down the stairs to the main floor and heads to the kitchen.

* * *

Mal feels the shaking and leans on her arm to get a better view, "Evie."

"What?" she says with shut eyes.

"You're too cold. You have to go to bed."

"No. I'm fine," she denies.

"Even your voice is shaking," Mal irritably points out. "You have to go."

"What about you?" Evie worries.

"I'll be fine."

She doesn't move, "I don't want to leave you."

"Do I have to hypnotize you?" Mal asserts.

Evie sighs, "No." before she tiredly gets up from Mal's bed and heads to hers. "Night."

* * *

\- Okay. I really need to come up with more ways to show someone is mad or frustrated other than just them narrowing their eyes or furrowing their brows. Any suggestions? Also, sorry for using the phrase "points out" so much in this chapter, but I have a headache and couldn't be bothered to change them.

 **Next Up** : Ben's breakdown, Ben's mother confronts him about phone call, and Ben asks Chad to stay... you know, because he doesn't sleep... Sorry if these are spoilery. When I do these I sometimes just put what I have literally written as the summery of the chapter. And no, that does not mean it's already written. It just means I've been attempting to outline it.

-Have a great day/night. Thanks for reading. I hope you've been enjoying it.


	137. The Breakdown

**The Breakdown**

 **(Day 108: Tuesday Afternoon)**

Ben looks around the classroom as he hears the student read, and when he notices the others turn the page he does the same. The guy's words are fast, and Ben points at a word he thinks he had heard; however, by the time he had found it his classmate could be anywhere ahead of that. He looks up again and glances down the row for any sign of where they could be. "Ben?" He swiftly turns his head toward the Sociology teacher, before the instructor asks, "Would you like to read?"

Ben's eyes shift, and it takes him a moment to answer, "No." The class erupts in laughter, and he looks around at the sudden uproar of chaotic people and overlapping sounds. He looks at Aziz, but he merely nods up toward the teacher.

By the time Ben's eyes move back to him, the professor shouts something. Whatever he had threatened must have worked, because the room has become deathly silent. He glances around and notices everyone is sitting in their seats again, before the teacher says, "Ben." and he meets his light grey eyes. "I would like you to read, please."

He looks down at the textbook, "What?"

"Just finish off the section."

Ben looks back up at the brown haired teacher and wets his lips, "I meant, where?" Aziz points to the spot in Ben's textbook, and he eyes the spot, "Right." He takes a breath before starting to read, but not a minute later a girl's voice interrupts him. He finds the blond, "Pardon?"

"Contact," she sternly repeats. "The t is part of the second syllable, not the first one." He hears Aziz's voice and looks at him responding in frustration, before he sees the girl speak again, "So, what? He can't pronounce contact?"

It's quiet for a long minute, before the teacher says, "Ben." and quickly faces him. "Please continue."

Ben starts off with the same word he had ended with, but he halts at the sound of the girl's annoyed breath. He parts his lips again before continuing, but he then stumbles upon a word that nearly covers the entire line. It starts with phy, because of course it does. "Psychosomatic," Aziz pronounces for him.

"Yes," Ben says before skipping over the word; however, it's not long before he's confronted with another impossibly long word, and he stands to rush toward the door, leaving his materials back at his table.

The teacher loudly says, "Ben." and when he turns the tears are seen in his eyes. He cautiously continues with a softer tone, "What's wrong?"

Ben feels his heart quicken, his breathing unsteady, "I can't do it." as he shakes his head. "I can't do it."

"Yes, you can," the teacher slowly takes a step forward.

He shakes his head even harder, "No. I can't." before the tears stream from his eyes. "I can't do twenty letter words right now." He breathes, "I'm sorry."

"Okay." He raises a hand in reassurance, "How about you take your seat, and we can get someone else to read?"

"It don't," he loudly rejects, before he half laughs. "The words are fast, they're long, and—" He gives up, finishing in French, and the instructor's frown deepens. Ben's words quicken, several sentences seeming to pass before he allows himself to breath.

"Hey. It's okay." He moves forward to place a hand on Ben's good shoulder, and Ben sobs. "It's going to be okay." He turns back to the class, "Start your vocab. I'll be back soon." The teacher opens the door and guides him out to the hallway, and Ben knows he's done something wrong. He follows him down the hallway, realizing he shouldn't have complained. He shouldn't have spoken French. He should have just stayed in his seat, or maybe he wasn't acting up enough. Could he have not read had he only insisted not to? He notices a group of people gawking at him, and he uses his sleeve to wipe the tears away. No. He probably would had to have sworn at him and get sent to Fairy Godmother's office, but whatever way he could have stopped it, it's too late. His face is warm, the world is a daze, and his breaths are slow. He glances down, just barely able to feel his feet. He's tired. He feels like sleeping. He stops walking, and the brown haired professor looks back, "Ben?"

Ben stares at him for a moment, before he turns to the left and slowly walks to the drinking fountain. He takes the tic-tac case from his pocket, dumping a few pills into his hand, before he puts the case back, takes the pills with his other hand, and brings them to his mouth. He presses the button for the fountain, downing the tablets with the cold water, before he stands up and sees the teacher next to him. "Where… going?"

"Fairy Godmother." He eyes over him, "Are you okay?"

"Okay," Ben repeats, but when the teacher doesn't move he walks around him.

The professor walks beside him, "I don't know how much you can understand me right now, but we are here for you, you know."

It takes a second for Ben to tiredly say, "I know."

"And whatever problems you face, you should feel free to tell the administration about it," he lets him know; however, this time Ben fails to respond, and when they stop outside the office he raises a finger, "One minute." Ben's eyes follow as his hand flattens and then lowers. "Wait here."

Ben turns toward the wall, noticing the two chairs, and after a long stare at the wood and green, vine cushion he sits down. The blue lockers ahead of him are dented, and the light from above seems to poke down in spikes. They become longer as his eyes close and back to their default position as his eyes open, and he yawns once at the bright light before shutting his eyelids, however, the light can still be seen through them, and when the light shifts he opens them again. Fairy Godmother solemnly smiles at him, "How are you?"

He takes a deep breath, relieved to hear the French, "I…" but his eyes shift as he realizes the circumstances. "I swear, my English isn't that bad," he widens his eyes, before he wets his lips, "It's just the classes."

"Why don't you come in, and we can talk about that?"

Ben glances between the two of them, before he stands from his seat and she makes a pathway for him to enter the office. Halfway to the chair, he looks back and watches their serious expressions, before the headmistress smiles, the sociology teacher nods, and he leaves. Ben sees her turn back to the office, and he quickly looks away and continues to the chair. He moves his thumb in a circle over his forefinger, before he watches her sit behind the desk. "Look. When I said it was the classes," Ben glances down, "I didn't mean—"

"I won't make you quit them," she interrupts.

He cautiously leans forward, "You won't?" and she shakes her head. Ben's eyes turn down for a second, "Then why am I here?"

"You're here, because you had a breakdown."

"So, this is about disrupting class," Ben concludes as he looks toward the door.

"No." Fairy Godmother contradicts, "This is very much about you." and he meets her dark brown eyes. "You're here so that we may discuss what happened." He doesn't speak, staring down at the wooden desk, trying to recall any major detail that had happened. "Mr. Herz said you were trying to read for the class but that you gave up, and when he stopped you from leaving you ended up venting in French. Could you tell me what you told him?"

Ben looks up again, "I don't really remember." before he moves the bangs from his eyes. "I have a hard time remembering things that happen when I get upset."

"Do you know why?"

He lifts his shoulder, "Maybe because it makes the fever higher." before he eyes off. "Maybe not."

"People tend to think differently when they feel different ways," Fairy Godmother informs. "It would not be unreasonable to say that because you seem calm now that you would not understand how you were thinking when you were upset." He doesn't speak. "Could you tell me what stressor could have triggered this breakdown of yours?"

Ben wets his lips, "I'm fine, really. I just haven't slept."

"Do you miss out on sleep a lot?" she inquires.

It takes him a moment, "I suppose."

"Then, as concerning as that is, it's not very new." He looks away from her. "Ben. I would like you to be honest with me." She waits for him to face her. "Have you been having trouble with English?"

"I'm king," he quietly states.

"But that does not make you immune to problems," the headmistress finishes. "You're still just a person. You're as mortal and subject to strife as the rest of us."

He takes a deep breath before admitting, "I may have been having a little trouble."

Fairy Godmother nods, "For how long?"

He looks away from her, "Since I fell." and he can feel the tears threaten his eyes again as he faces her. "I got a concussion. It should be gone by now."

She frowns, "Some concussions can last months."

"No," Ben's eyes widen, and he scoots to the edge of his seat. "This can't take months."

"Maybe I'm wrong," she tries to comfort him. "Most concussions are gone by the third week, but, unfortunately, however long it takes for you to heal is not up to us." He leans back in his chair and stares up at the ceiling. "I know this must be hard for you, but it is still only temporary. You will get better."

Tears enter the corners of his eyes, and he wipes them away with his fingers, "Nothing gets better. It's just the same crap over and over again."

"What do you mean?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing." before he straightens up. "So, is there a reason for all this, or can I leave now?"

"You said this has been happening for a couple weeks," she continues on. "I wonder, how did you make it this long without anyone noticing?"

Ben gulps, "My friends."

"Your friends?" she inquires.

He nods, "Yeah. Evie was helping me with English class, and Aziz was helping me with Into to Sociology… It would have worked if I wasn't told to read."

"What about your other classes?" she concerns. "And your assignments?"

Ben laughs, "Chad. I was getting help from Chad."

"As in Chad Charming?" she disbelieves.

He smiles, "Yeah. I didn't think he would be much help either, but…" Ben shifts in his seat, "He helped me before, so we thought we'd give it a try now, I guess."

"What do you mean, he helped you before?"

"Well." Ben wets his lips, "You know, just back in elementary school." before he grins. "Talk about someone who's actually bilingual. I bet he wouldn't forget an entire language if he got a concussion."

"Wait." The headmistress pauses, eyes wide, as though she must be seeing things, "Are you telling me that Chad was helping you with English in primary school?"

Ben frowns, "Yes?"

"But you must have been five at the time," she notes. "What? Did your parents not teach you English before you entered kindergarten?"

Ben gets an unsettling feeling, as though he's in trouble, before he unsurely reminds her, "I told you before. I learn English at school. We don't speak it at home."

She lets out a stressed breath, "This is unbelievable. Your mother of all people, a true supporter of education, failing to educate her own child."

"Hey," he loudly defends. "It's not like she didn't teach me to speak at all. She taught me to speak. It was just French."

"But French isn't the national language, is it?" Fairy Godmother counters, and then Ben silences. "Your mother had the knowledge and means to teach you the national language, and yet she didn't. Why?"

Ben slightly shakes his head, "She must have been busy."

"Parents make time for their children," she argues. "A child is not something you take care of when convenient." The headmistress takes a calming breath, "For example, my ex-husband divorced me, because apparently I'm a workaholic; however, I still make every bit of effort to spend time with my daughter and teach her to the best of my ability. Your mother, whether queen or not, should have been able to do the same."

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "She didn't do anything wrong. I'm fine."

"So, you don't believe that had you learned English at a younger age that you would have an easier time with it now?" He doesn't speak. "Ben. I don't think you're grasping how serious this really is. English is the national language, which means that when your parents neglected to teach you it they also neglected to give you the tools to seek help should you need it."

"But I do know it," he denies.

"Only because the school taught it to you," she reinforces.

"And they would have known that," he desperately responds.

"Ben." She offers a sad expression, "I don't think that makes things any better." before she hesitates to continue. "Controlling who someone can and cannot talk to is a form of emotional abuse, and if your parents knew they were doing it that only makes matters worse."

Ben shakes his head hard, "No. My mother loves me. Whatever happened, it wasn't to hurt me. She was doing what was best."

"Best for who?" the headmistress inquires.

"What?" he asks in confusion.

"Keeping you from learning wouldn't help you," Fairy Godmother points out, "so who does it help?" He sighs, unable to think of anything. "I'm going to have to call her and get to the bottom of this."

"What?" Ben panics. "No."

"Is there a reason why I shouldn't?" she seriously questions.

Ben's quiet for a long minute, "I…" before he looks down. "Please." He meets her eyes again, "I don't want her to get in trouble."

"Ben," she quietly answers, "unless this call threatens someone's safety, it's important that I know my students are safe." She inquires, "Do you have any reason to suspect that calling your mother could get someone hurt?"

He parts his lips before speaking, "No."

"Okay, then." The headmistress continues, "I will call your mother, give her the opportunity to explain her actions, and until then we will take care of you."

Ben stares at her for a moment, "I'm safe."

"That's not what I meant." She rearranges the papers on her desk, "What I meant is, I am going to get you an interpreter to help you with your classes."

"An interpreter?"

"Yes," she states. "Someone who can translate for you, and I'm going to recommend that when possible the instructors offer you lecture notes and assignments beforehand so that you may review them with the interpreter outside of the classroom."

"Outside of the classroom?" Ben questions.

"French is a verbal language. I would like you spend the class time outside of the classroom so that both you and the other students may concentrate more effectively."

Ben slightly nods, "Okay."

She smiles, "Is there anything else I can do for you or that you would like to discuss?"

His eyes shift, "I don't want you to call her."

"Ben." She slowly explains, "The information you just gave me warrants investigation. At the least, I do need to get her side of the story."

"But I'm fine," Ben insists. "You know I'm fine. It's just temporary, remember?"

"Ben," she says again. "I would very much like to believe you're fine." She hesitates, "But I really don't think that's the case."

"I am," he widens his eyes. "I'm fine. This—" He wets his lips, "It's nothing."

It takes the headmistress a moment to comment, "The fact that you say this is nothing only proves that you've been through worse."

"No. It doesn't," Ben denies. "People go through bad things all the time. That's just a fact. People get hurt. It happens."

"Just because something happens," Fairy Godmother counters, "doesn't mean it should." He huffs in annoyance, his eyes shifting away. "Ben. You're a smart kid. You've taken every class on this. Surely, you can tell me if you've been mistreated."

He glares at her, "There's nothing to tell."

"Well, then," Fairy Godmother surpasses, "you may return to class."

"No." He leans forward, "You're not calling her."

"I'm afraid I have to."

"I said no," Ben roars, and he slaps his hand to his mouth as his eyes widen in horror. He holds it there tightly, and he can hear his own heart pound through the silence.

"Ben," the headmistress begins with caution. "Are you okay?"

He shakes his head and lets the hand drop from his mouth, before he whispers, "Nothing's okay." He offers her a pleading look, "I don't want to get my family into trouble."

"Ben," she addresses again. "You have to know that whatever your family has done, it's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes, I did," he hisses. "I've been talking about family matters outside of the family, and now our reputation is going to get even worse. We're going to break apart."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because, it's what the people do." He gulps, "Once word gets out that I was only taught French they're going to think my parents have something to hide, they're going to dig to find our secrets, and then they're going to separate and kill us."

Fairy Godmother's mouth gapes, "Hold on. What secret could possibly be so bad?"

"Don't you get it?" he begins to cry. "I'm the secret. Everything about me is a secret." He unsteadily breathes, "They think my father is a man, a human, but I'm proof he's not. And there is no way that those people and their religions are going to let a demon be their king. No. They're going to kill me and my family, like they tried to kill my parents before."

"Okay. First thing." She lifts a hand, "A lot has changed since your parents took over the land. No one is killing anyone." She looks over him, "Did your parents tell you this?" but he doesn't speak. "Ben. No one is going to kill you. You should feel free to speak openly."

"If it's not true, then why are they afraid?"

"Because they had to live through it?" she suggests. "Or, maybe, they're not afraid at all." She pauses, "Maybe it's like the concept of Hell, and they just want you to be afraid so that you will behave."

Ben looks off in thought before meeting her eyes, "Can I still leave?"

She frowns with a nod, "Yes. You may leave."

* * *

- **DeathCrawler** Welcome back. Nice to see you again.

- **Danifan3000** Yeah. I saw that movie too; however, I would argue that Toothless acted a little more like a dog than a cat, but that's just because I vividly remember the scene where he was dragging the stick in the sand. And, yeah, Mal is pretty cat-like, but as funny as the concept of her purring is, I don't think it will get that far... The beast was mainly a lion wolf creature, so Ben has an excuse to roar. Mal, not so much.

-Posted: 11/30/2018


	138. Development

**Development**

 **(Day 109: Wednesday Afternoon)**

When Belle steps into the office she silently shuts the door before turning towards the headmistress, "Good Afternoon, Lucinda."

Fairy Godmother nods, "Belle." and she waits for her to sit. "I thought we agreed on four P.M. You're a little late."

"Well, yes," Belle smiles, glancing down for a second. "Something popped up last second, and I'm afraid it took longer to situate than I had hoped."

"To situate?" Lucinda picks out. "Is everything alright?"

Her smile widens, "Yes. Of course."

She nods, "Well, in any case, you're here now." before she clasps her hands. "I only wish we could have met under better circumstances."

"You said it was about Ben." Belle worries, "Is he okay?"

"Not to backseat parent you," she cautiously states, "but as his mother, shouldn't you know if your son is okay?"

Belle rubs her hands, "If he's fainted… he's been under a lot of stress as of late."

"Yes. He has been," she agrees, "and surely his concussion hasn't helped."

Belle's mouth opens and her eyes narrow, before she questions, "What's this about?"

"For starters, what are you doing letting your son attend school with a concussion?"

"He wanted to go," she defends.

"And if he wanted to play tourney with a broken arm, would you let him?" she counters.

"No. Of course, not," Belle exasperates.

"A concussion can be prolonged by mental activity," the headmistress informs. "Did you know that when you let Ben back to school?"

"He was going to use his brain anyway," she defends. "It's just who he is. He actually wanted me to bring a document for him to look over while he was in the hospital."

"Did you?" she raises her eyebrows.

"No." Belle nods down, "Come on, Lucinda. You know me. I would never do something to intentionally put my son or family in danger."

It takes a minute for Lucinda to respond, "Need I remind you that we have not met casually for a good ten years now? I'm afraid to say that I'm not quite sure who you are now."

"That shouldn't matter," she quietly speaks.

"And yet it does," the headmistress comments, "especially when I've been given reason to believe that Ben has been psychologically abused by both you and your husband."

Belle frustrates, "And who told you that piece of fiction."

"Your son," Lucinda calmly supplies.

Her mouth gapes, before she attempts to laugh it off, "These classes the school offers, they don't explain the difference between a singular situation and an ongoing event. All they do is give signs of it and offer situations in which it may occur."

"That is your first mistake," the headmistress frowns. "The singular occurrence is a sign that an ongoing event may occur, and in most cases that is likely the case. Especially, when the victim does not report it, forgives the abuser, and the abuser does not see the consequences."

Belle's eyes shift, and she makes a noise before sighing, "People can change."

It's quiet for a long moment as Lucinda observes Belle, and she evenly continues, "Ben did not call it abuse. He mentioned how you didn't teach him English, he mentioned how he, himself, feels like the family secret, and he mentioned how if he reveals that secret to anyone that your family is at risk of being killed."

It takes a second for her to process it, "I never said that he or our family would be killed, if that's what you're thinking."

"He said that those who are religious would never accept him as a king and that they would kill you all," she informs. "Is that something you're afraid of?"

"What does it matter?"

"Belle," the headmistress tries to reason, "kids are not stupid. They know more than we give them credit, and the younger they are the more emotionally invested they are in our conduct. Is it at all possible that even if you never told Ben these things, that he could have become convinced of it just on your fears or behaviors?"

"Well, he's gotten one thing right." Belle faces her, "In the eyes of the Lord our family would be an abomination, and it is unlikely that the religious majority would be okay with that."

"An abomination?"

"Yes," she affirms. "An abomination. The girl who fell in love with what equates to an animal and the unholy offspring that later became king."

"It's not like Ben was conceived while Adam was the beast," Lucinda counters.

"No," Belle accepts, "but in order for the curse to break I had to fall in love with him while he was still the beast, and that is all anyone sees." She shakes her head, "If the ignorant knew that Ben is documented as a hybrid, then there's a fair chance that the fundamentalists would come out of the woodwork and we would be killed."

"You realize, it's not just documentation?" Lucinda makes sure. "He's shown signs of inheriting nonhuman traits."

"It was nothing public, was it?" she worries.

"If I were you," she sternly remarks, "I would be a little less worried about what people think and a little more worried about your child."

It takes her a moment, "What happened?"

"There's many things," the headmistress slowly answers, "but what I'm most concerned about is Ben's diet. With his injuries, it's more important now than ever that he gets all of the nutritional requirements he needs." Belle waits for her to continue. "It seems like he's developed a carnivorous appetite, but he said he doesn't want to act on it."

"Oh, um," Belle uneasily comments, "I wouldn't worry too much about that." She attempts a smile, "He's just doing this, because he's jealous of how much time Adam gets with me and he wants to convince me to eat out with him. It's just a bluff, won't last long. Trust me."

Lucinda frowns, "If all he wants is more time with you, then maybe you should do it."

"He wants time with me alone," Belle emphasizes the last word. "I rather think that's not such a great idea."

"Why not?"

It takes a minute for her to answer, "Adam is a part of this family too. Ben needs to realize that… It's not just the two of us."

"Belle," Lucinda gives a look. "You have not given me any good reason as to why you shouldn't eat out alone with your son."

"He wants to go to Starlit Nights," Belle firmly informs. "What do you imagine the people would think?"

She slowly shakes her head, looking up in thought, "That a mother and her child are eating together at a restaurant that's known for good service."

"It's a romantic restaurant."

"So?" Lucinda questions, and then Belle looks away. "I know you don't get out much, so you won't know this, but parents eat out with their kids. No one is going to think it's anything more than what it is."

Belle purses her lips before letting out a breath, "Ben has become far more comfortable with me than his father. Surely the public has noticed that on some level. What if they do think it's something more?"

"Then when or if that happens," she evenly answers, "you can simply tell them the truth. Until then, you need to worry more about your son's health and development." She hesitates, "And I know that Adam isn't the easiest to talk to, but Ben inherited this carnivorous trait from him. If he wants to take part in being a decent father to Ben, then having them sit down to talk this through and just offer Ben what to expect and what to do would really help, I think."

She unsurely smiles, "I don't think that's such a good idea. Adam… It's probably just from the lack of education he had growing up, but he gets stressed easily and doesn't always respond in the right ways. And, you know, family night can be stressful enough. He shouldn't have to worry about giving Ben another talk." Her smile falters, "Honestly, he wasn't particularly good at explaining the first one."

"The first one?" she inquires.

"Yes," Belle uncomfortably answers before facing her. "Lucky for me, Ben has always been fairly smart, and after giving a brief overview of puberty he was able to look up the rest for himself." She lets out a stressed breath, "Thank the internet."

"Yes," Lucinda agrees. "The internet can be a very helpful resource." She pauses, "However, I'm not entirely sure that the carnivore minority would be open enough to just have some website explaining common traits, things to expect, and how to solve those problems."

"His girlfriend is a carnivore," she solves. "He can ask her."

"Don't you think that's going to be a little hard with the language barrier?"

"Language barrier?" Belle questions.

"Ben's been having a hard time with English," she informs. "You didn't know?"

She glances down, "I mean, he was having problems in the hospital, but he seemed to be doing better just last week."

The headmistress straightens the papers on her desk, "I need to ask." before she faces her. "Why didn't you teach Ben English before he started to attend school?"

She frowns, "It wasn't the right time."

"It wasn't the right time?" Lucinda offers a skeptical expression.

Belle's eyes shift, before she lifts her head, "Yes."

"For who?" she questions, but as Belle opens her mouth in unsureness the cellphone rings and she takes it from her purse.

"Adam." Lucinda watches Belle turn her head down and away. "Um. I'm with the headmistress at Ben's school." There's a pause. "Why didn't I bring you? Well, uh, Adam. You weren't feeling very well." Belle moves the phone a few inches from her ear as he yells. "I've never said that." She eyes Lucinda before continuing, "Adam. I promise you, I'll be home within thirty minutes. Maybe we could talk then, and you can put on some tea for us?" She shuts her eyes at the sound of a breaking ceramic, "Right. I can put the tea on, then. Just… I love you. Be home soon." She puts the phone away and stands from her seat, "Sorry. I have to go."

"Belle." She waits for her to face her, "I set this meeting as a favor to you, for all of the years that were we friends and worked together, but make no mistake." She widens her eyes in seriousness, "The next time Ben comes to me with this kind of purposeful neglect again, I will be inclined to report it." She merely nods before heading to the door, and she opens it just before the headmistress speaks again. "And Belle." She turns towards her. "Even though we haven't met socially in a while, you should know that I am here for both you and your son should you need someone in any way."

She grins, "Thank you, but that won't be necessary." before she turns to leave the room.

* * *

When Ben sees who's at the door he unsurely opens it, "Mother?"

She steps inside and turns to him, "What were you thinking?"

He shuts the door and faces her, "What do you mean?"

"I just got back from the headmistress's office," her eyes widen in fury. "She's just accused me of purposeful neglect."

Ben frowns, "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Well, you should have known it would happen," she yells. "Seriously, Ben. The things you told her." She pauses before continuing in a quieter, yet firmer voice, "It's a wonder Social Services hasn't come to separate us."

"Look." Ben reassures, "I would never want that."

"Not even to get your father out of the picture?" she accuses.

"You love him," Ben stresses. He reaches out for her, "I—" but she raises her arm to her chest and he halts. "I would never do that to you." She doesn't speak. "I love you. I wouldn't want to hurt you like that."

"Then, next time," she advises, "think before you speak." She shakes her head, "Honestly. I raised you better than this, Ben." and he eyes the blue carpet. "You're king. You can't just say whatever you want whenever you feel like it. These things have consequences."

"I'm sorry," Ben whispers.

She shakes her head before checking her golden watch, "You've better hope that your father doesn't ask any questions." before she heads out the door.

"What was that about?" Ben hears, and he turns toward Doug.

"Nothing," he quietly states.

Doug watches as Ben reaches his hand to his eyes, "It doesn't seem like nothing." but he doesn't respond. "Come on. It's not like she came here just to yell at you."

Ben walks toward the mini fridge, "I need a soda." but Doug stands to go and block it. "Out of the way," Ben bares his teeth.

"Tell me first," he insists.

Ben shakes his head, "She talked to Fairy Godmother. She was mad at me."

"You mean, your mother, right?" Doug assumes.

"Yes."

"And why is she mad?" he inquires.

"Who are you? Evie?" Ben narrows his eyes. "I'm not a dog. I don't need to do stuff for soda."

"Ben," Doug begins.

"Get out of the way," he growls.

"I just want to know why you're doing this." He sighs, "I mean, I know you're upset, but why?" Doug notices his quietness, "Ben?"

He looks up to meet his eyes, "You smell like apples."

He adjusts his glasses, "Well, I do eat a lot of apples." and Ben catches the long, blue vein trailing up his arm into his wrist.

Ben forces his eyes back to Doug's face, "Move."

"Ben," he tries to reason. "I—"

"Move, before I bite you," he sternly eyes him.

He uncomfortably laughs, "Ha, ha. Funny. Nice joke."

"I don't know if I am," Ben states, and then Doug frowns. "Move." He takes a few steps back, and Ben opens the mini fridge to grab an assortment of Diet Cokes before heading to the table and dropping them down from his arm.

Doug steps closer as he watches Ben open the first one, "I understand that you're sad or something, but are all of those necessary?"

Ben drinks a good portion of the first can, before he hears Doug's voice again, "Go."

"Just tell me what's wrong," he insists.

Ben widens his eyes at him and slowly states, "I want to be alone. Stop talking."

"Can I do homework?" Doug questions. "Or do I have to go go?"

"I don't care," Ben irritably responds, before Doug finds his materials and sits down across from him; however, when he opens the textbook the surrounding air spreads out, and Ben catches a more intense version of his scent. "Can you wear or coat or something?"

"A coat?" Doug questions.

"Or something," Ben says again.

"But I'm not cold."

"So?" Ben slowly inquires.

"So, why do you want me to wear a coat?"

Ben sees his suspicion, "Nothing." before he slides over his own textbook. "It's fine."

* * *

-Funny thing about the part where the headmistress thinks the carnivore minority wouldn't have many good resources on the internet. In real life there's actually a website about vampires, and it goes into a very long list of traits that many vampires would share as well as a multitude of other things. It's actually where I got the information for the retrovirus idea in the previous chapter where Ben and King Charming were having their debate... I had no idea what a retrovirus was before I read this cite, but if I remember correctly it's basically just a virus that can change your DNA. The cite also has a page that lists a variety of European dishes that just so happen to have blood in it, which is completely and absolutely useless if you live in the United States. Having a lot of German heritage, I would be interested in trying something like blood sausage or black pudding; however, in the United States the farms are all basically large factories instead of local farms (which would make blood even less safe than it already is), and the last time I looked it up selling blood is illegal. So, not even a butcher shop would have it... Maybe I'm wrong. If you live in the United States and know a butcher or store that sells animal blood, feel free to leave a comment on it, but from what I can tell it's really not a thing here. People just really have a problem with blood and meat, and when they eat meat it's cooked very dry. I don't get why.


	139. No One to Blame

**No One to Blame**

 **(Day 109: Wednesday Night)**

"Mal," Doug's eyes widen in shock.

She points to the chain, "Mind letting me in?"

"Uh." He looks between the chain and her, "No. I do not think I will be letting you in at this current place in time."

Mal narrows her eyes, "You're acting weird." before she hears the voice. "Chad." She grits her teeth, "Chad is in there?"

"Ahh."

"What's Chad doing in there?" she infuriates.

"They're just doing homework," he reassures.

"Let me in."

"Mal," he attempts to reason. "Ben hasn't been himself lately. We should just really leave him alone."

"But he's not alone," she counters. "He's with Chad."

Doug attempts to explain, "Well, he doesn't have a problem with Chad."

"But he has a problem with me?" Mal interprets.

"No. Look." He lets out a breath and slowly says, "Ben isn't acting like himself."

"And your solution to that is to leave him alone with himself," she disbelieves.

"No. Mal. Look," he sighs, before he glances down and panics, "Mal. Look. Your hands." She glances down and sees the blood dripping from her knuckles, before she brings her hands up in front of her and opens them. Her sharp nails are doused in red, and there's small puddles of the same color surrounding the deep cuts. "What did you do?"

Mal notices his horror as she looks up, but the next second she closes her hands, steps back, and hurries down the hall; however, it's then she bumps into the blond girl. "Hey. Watch it," the girl complains.

When her face appears from the long hair Mal squints, "Ruby?" and then she looks toward the door. "Were you just in Jay's room?"

"What's it to you?" she counters.

"Nothing," Mal furrows her eyebrows. "It's just, you're here. So…"

"So?"

"So, did you have sex with him or something?" Mal inquires.

"Have you?" Ruby counters.

"God no," Mal loudly expresses in disgust, before she shakes her head. "Never mind. I really don't care." She walks past her and goes down the stairs, before she hurries into her dorm and into the bathroom. She hears the sewing machine stop as she turns the water on, and she attempts to wash the blood off before Evie makes it there; however, it can still be seen in the bright white sink.

"Mal," Evie whispers.

Mal turns and sees her leaning on the doorframe, "It was an accident." She attempts to wash her hands further, but it's like the water is causing her to bleed more.

"There's a first aid kit under the sink," Evie comments, before she kneels down to retrieve it and Mal steps out of the way. "What happened?"

Mal watches as Evie begins to dry her hands, "It was an accident." and the familiar sting can be felt as she begins cleaning the cuts with the antiseptic wipe. "I just got so mad and…" She watches as Evie places the small, circular bandages over the nail incisions. "I had no one to blame but me."

* * *

"Okay. So, we've finished psychology and law," Ben thinks aloud. "How about we relax with some basic ocean history?"

"Ben." Chad glances over his watch, "I'm really sorry, but I can't." He stands from the chair, "I have to go." but when he turns to leave he feels a hand grasp his wrist.

When he turns around Ben pleads, "Please stay."

Chad stares for a moment, "Don't you think it's getting a little late?"

"Late?"

"Like that we should be going to sleep soon," Chad supplies.

Ben lets go of Chad's wrist, "Right." before he wets his lips and looks away. "I forgot that sleep, it's a thing people do."

"Have you not been sleeping?" he speculates with furrowed brows.

Ben faces him, "Not really."

Chad's mouth gapes for a minute, "You have a concussion. Sleep is probably something you should be doing."

"Yeah," he continues to frown.

"You're going to sleep tonight, right?"

"I don't know," Ben begins.

Chad crosses his arms, "I don't need to drug you, do I?"

"Uh, no." Ben half laughs, "I drug myself enough." before he lifts his shoulder. "You know, like cold medicine and stuff."

"Well, that'll knock you out," Chad's eyebrows rise. "So, you're going to sleep, then?"

Ben sighs, "I'll think about it."

"Okay. No," he disagrees. "Thinking is the last thing you need to be doing right now." He smiles, "But you don't need to." before he raises his hands. "Because, you've got me." Chad places his hand on Ben's good shoulder, and he couches down to speak beside his ear, "Here's what you're going to do. You're going to go to bed, knock yourself out with that crappy medicine of yours, and then you're going to helplessly fall asleep like the damsel you are."

"And then you're going to catch me," Ben finishes with a near smile.

"There," Chad pats him on the arm. "Now you're getting it." He stands back up and points his thumb over his shoulder towards the door, "No. Seriously, though, I've got to go."

Ben frowns, "See you tomorrow."

"At breakfast," Chad reminds him, before he turns around and heads out the door.

"So," Doug slowly says, and Ben turns to look at him. "Can I ask what that was about or are you going to threaten to eat me again?"

Ben offers a look of annoyance, "I have no plan to eat you. Stop worrying."

"You said I smell like apples," he quietly comments.

Ben takes in a deep breath, "If I say you don't, will you stop about this?" and when Doug freezes Ben shakes his head. "Really. Tell me what to say. I will say it."

It takes a moment for Doug to answer, "I just want the truth."

Ben nods, "Right." before he meets his eyes. "The truth? I'm fucked up. That's it."

"Ben," he whispers.

Ben shakes his head, "Leave me alone." before he places his elbow onto the table and brings a hand to his head. "Please."

Doug nods, "Okay." but after moving only a couple feet he can't help but look back. "But Ben. You're not fucked up."

"You don't know me," he counters. "I have… secrets."

"Everyone does," Doug reasons. "I know you enough. And I trust you."

It takes a moment for Ben to say, "You shouldn't."

"But I do," Doug evenly responds, before he walks to his lamp to turn it off and leave Ben to the darkness.

* * *

After Chad finishes using the bathroom he goes to his bed and takes the orange bottle from his drawer, before he dumps out a few pills and puts the bottle back into the bedside table. He uses his water bottle to down the pills, and he picks up the lotion before rubbing it into his face, neck, and hands. It's only when he's done that he kneels beside the bed and clasps his hands on it, leaning his head down and shutting his eyes, before he whispers under his breath, "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I shall die before I wake, I pray to God my soul to take. If I should live for other days, I pray the Lord to guide my ways. Father, unto thee I pray. Please let Ben continue to heal from his injury, please let my girlfriend find comfort and peace even when I can't, and please, my Lord, someday will you end my pain? In the name of God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

* * *

- **Next Up** : Ben and his father talk, Ben and Coach Jenkins talk, and Doug talks to Fairy Godmother


	140. The Break-In

**The Break-In**

 **(Day 110: Thursday Afternoon)**

"So, I was meaning to ask," Doug comments from behind the laptop. "How was that person Fairy Godmother has helping you?"

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Nice, I guess. Some girl who knows stuff and can be nice."

"Girl?" Doug questions. "Is she like another student or something?"

Ben wets his lips, "Girl as in… female. She's in her late twenties or something."

"Oh," he laughs. "So, the word for that is woman."

Ben narrows his eyes in annoyance, "Girls are girls. It doesn't matter."

"No," Doug slowly says in unsureness. "There's a difference between a six-year-old and a twenty-something-year-old."

"Yeah," he widens his eyes. "A six-year-old is a little girl."

"Just saying," Doug continues on. "As king, you should probably use words as they mean. It's fine right now, but are you still going to call women girls when you're in your thirties? What if you date someone?"

"I am dating someone," Ben points out.

"Really?" he counters. "It doesn't look like it. With how you've been, Mal could be with someone else right now." Ben looks away, and Doug watches as he stands from the table and towards the mini fridge. "No. Ben," Doug hopelessly says, and his words speed up as Ben gets closer to the fridge, "I didn't mean it like that. Just don't. Please."

Ben kneels down and reaches for a few Diet Cokes, but then there's a sudden banging coming from the door. He stands back up and shuts the fridge, meeting Doug's eyes for a moment, before he heads to the door. Ben twists the main lock to open the door, and when it opens he sees his father's tall stature, piercing blue eyes, and furrowed brows. "You traitor." His father pushes on the door, and Ben stands still with his mouth gaped as he hears the chain tug. "We've done everything for you, you ungrateful brat, and you do this to us? Us!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ben quietly states.

"That fairy," his father yells, and when he pushes at the door again Ben takes a step back. "You told her we didn't take care of you. How dare you." He narrows his eyes, "I've given you everything. Everything!" Ben takes another step back, as his father pushes against the door again and he notices the chain begin to pull out of the wall. "You took everything from me!"

"Father," Ben tries to reason, and he can feel the tears intrude his eyes.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it?" is father says, before he pushes against the door a final time and the chain swings down from the wall. He steps inside, "You think I'm nothing. That you're better. That you can take anything you want."

When he steps forward Ben takes a step back, "Dad."

His father strides toward him, and Ben feels the curtains as he backs against the window. "You thought you could take everything, that you could take her?" He grits his teeth, "You're wrong."

When he grabs Ben's arms he winces, and Doug hollers, "Hey."

His father turns toward Doug, and Ben yells, "Stay out." before his father's attention is brought back to him.

He presses his left forefinger against his chest twice, "You are disgusting and disrespectful, thinking you can take her from me."

"What?" Ben begins in confusion.

"Your mother," he shouts. "You want her, and you want to take her from me."

"She's my mother," Ben disbelieves.

"Like that's ever mattered to you."

"Okay. Look." Ben eyes shift from place to place, "I know she's yours."

"You're exactly right," his father affirms. "She is." He leans in, "And if I ever see you touch her like that again, you will have it coming."

Ben recalls how he had touched her curly hair, and he wets his lips, "Yes, Father."

He lets go of him, "You best remember that." before he turns around to leave.

After he's out the door Doug sees the tears on Ben's face, "Are you okay?"

He reaches for his left shoulder, "My arm. It—" but his words are cut off as he sees the guy with brown hair holding up his phone in complete shock. "Did you video that?"

Ben wipes the tears from his face before he enters the hall and takes the phone from him, but just as he presses the delete button Doug urgently comments, "Ben. That's proof."

Ben meets his green eyes, "You can't prove something that didn't happen." before he presses yes to confirm the deletion of the recording. He shoves the phone to Brendan's chest, "Next time. Don't."

The tourney player continues to frown, "You expect this to happen again?" and Ben's frown deepens in realization before he glances around the small crowd.

He takes a step back, and Aziz questions, "Ben?" before he hurries down the hall to get away from them.

* * *

Later that afternoon Coach Jenkins walks through the humid rain, and when he finds Ben under the bleachers he walks toward him and squats down, "Ben?" His eyes are closed, "Ben?" but when he touches his right shoulder his eyes tiredly open. "We've been looking for you."

Ben feels the pain and reaches for his left shoulder, "Leave me."

"It's raining," the coach opposes. "We have to get you inside." Ben doesn't speak, merely shutting his eyes again, and the coach brings the back of his hand to Ben's forehead. "You're burning up." He doesn't respond, so Jenkins touches his shoulder again, "Ben. Did you hear me? I said you have a fever."

"I don't care," Ben whispers. "Leave me."

"I'm not doing that," the coach asserts. "You have two options here. One. You can walk inside with me. Or two. I can get the guys to carry you inside." Ben inwardly groans before placing his hand on the ground, but he's too weak to get up himself. Coach Jenkins stands up and stretches out his hand, before Ben takes it and manages to stand himself; however, it's then Ben places his hand on the brick building for support, and he turns to lean his head against the cold surface. It takes a minute for the coach to comment, "Ben. I know this has to be hard for you, but you really need to come with me.

Ben nods, "Okay." but he still keeps his hand on the brick as they walk.

When they get inside Jenkins guides Ben into his office, and after they sit down the coach pulls a bottle of ibuprofen from a drawer of his desk. He takes out three pills for Ben, before he offers them to him along with some water from the cooler, "Here." Ben stares at them, but he doesn't speak or move. "Ben. I know you don't want to get put in the hospital again." With that, Ben sighs and reaches for the medicine. It takes him a minute to get them down, but when he's finished the coach mentions, "Some of the players said they saw your father." Ben's mouth slightly gapes as he meets his black eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?" Ben shakes his head, and then the coach nods. "Then let me." He hesitates, "Your father was an angry king who ruled with an iron fist. Figuratively speaking." He pauses. "He needed to control everything, and that's what he did."

"Control," Ben repeats the word, unable to recall its exact meaning.

"He liked to have his way," the coach rephrases. "He needed to feel in charge."

"But he was in charge," Ben quietly comments.

"For some people," Jenkins explains, "that's not enough. Some people feel like they're not enough or that other people don't like them. It makes them grab power, and it's those same people who have the hardest time letting it go."

"You act like you know him."

"In a way," the coach frowns. "I know his type. And I know how that type of person can affect the people closest to them." Ben looks away. "I know things are hard for you, but this is your life. Not his. You don't have to do everything he tells you to."

When Ben faces him he counters, "You're wrong. My life is his." before he looks away again. "And he can do what he wants to me."

"Ben," Jenkins intervenes. "I would like to help."

Ben frowns at him, "There's nothing you can do." and he sees him about to speak. "Please. Don't." He lets out a long breath as his eyes shut for a moment, "I'm tired… Really, really tired. I just want to sleep."

"Okay," the coach accepts. "How about I walk you to your dorm, make sure you get there okay?" Ben nods, and it's quiet as they exit the office.

* * *

\- **DeathCrawler** Lol. Disturbing. I must be doing something right, then. You know what they say: you're not a good writer unless you can make your audience cry, which I'm proud to say I have before... might have been a different fic, though. I do wish you could have specified what was disturbing, though, so that I could interpret whether it was too much or not or just plain necessary. Unless, of course, you were referring to everything I posted that night, in which case your statement is accurate and I wouldn't blame you at all. I deal with dark stuff. I know that, but believe me when I say a few fics from now the story is going to get a lot darker.

-Posted: 12/03/2018


	141. One Girl

**One Girl**

 **(Friday Afternoon)**

When Doug knocks Fairy Godmother responds, "Come in." and he unsurely opens the door before stepping into her office. "What can I do for you?"

Doug closes the door and then faces her, "I'm here about Ben."

She gestures to the seat across from her, and after he sits she comments, "Go ahead."

He nods before hesitating, "His father came to see him. He…" She patiently waits, her hands clasped on the desk. Doug faces her, "His father broke the lock on our room and then came in and grabbed him."

Fairy Godmother nods, "Anything else."

"What do you mean, anything else?" Doug disbelieves.

"Do you know what they were saying, for instance?"

His lets out a breath, "They were speaking French. That's like the one language I don't know." He insists, "But I don't need to know what they were saying to know it was bad."

"Doug," Fairy Godmother addresses, "you're not the first person to come to me about this. Many others came to me just yesterday with a similar story."

"Then you're doing something about it," Doug assumes.

"Not so much," the headmistress frowns. "There's no proof. It's all just hearsay."

"But there were witnesses," he denies.

"Look." Fairy Godmother explains, "The witnesses were no more than a select few teenage boys, and Ben's part of a royal family. Witnesses won't be enough in this case."

"But Aziz was there," Doug remembers. "Surely his word means something."

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "Maybe. Maybe not. Ben's family rules this country. I think it's safe to say we would need definitive proof to even get this investigated."

"There was a video taken of it," he frowns. "But Ben deleted it."

She nods, "Yes. I also heard about that."

"Please," Doug breathes. "There has to be something we can do."

It takes a moment for the headmistress to mention, "I'm going to ask Ben here Monday. If he comes forward, then there's a very good chance that this will be thoroughly looked at."

Doug shakes his head, "Ben's never going to do that."

"Which is why I'm asking you to encourage him to," Fairy Godmother retorts. "If you really want to help, this is the best way."

"And if I can't?" Doug questions.

Fairy Godmother carefully answers, "It would not be your fault." before she seriously continues. "However, if Ben denies the claims made, then as both the victim of the case and king of this country, the police and Social Services may have no choice but to drop the case."

Doug nods in understanding, "I'll try my best."

The headmistress partly smiles, "Let's hope it helps."

* * *

"Hey," Doug says as he sits across from Ben. He pauses the audio textbook on the laptop and takes his ear buds out, before he silently meets his eyes. "I think we need to talk about what happened yesterday."

Ben eyes down at the keyboard, "My father."

"Yes," Doug confirms.

He faces him again, "What about?"

"Well." Doug makes a noise before questioning, "Let's start with what he was saying to you. Why did he even come here?"

Ben looks off, "It doesn't matter."

"Ben." He waits for him to look at him before requesting, "I would like to know." Ben's quiet for a long minute. "Please. Just tell me what happened."

"What happened?" Ben questions, and it takes him a moment to answer. "My mother talked to Fairy Godmother, because I told her she didn't teach English for me. He knew, and…" Ben wets his lips, "My father doesn't need anything to do something. The talk went somewhere else. He just…"

When Ben gives up Doug quietly asks, "Where did the talk go?"

He faces him, "My mother." but then he pauses. "She means a lot to me. He doesn't like it, I guess."

"Why wouldn't he like it?"

Ben unsurely answers, "I think he thinks that I like her like… more than normal."

"You mean, like… like like?" Doug clarifies, and Ben merely nods. Doug takes a moment before inquiring, "Do you?" and then Ben furrows his eyebrows. "I only ask, because you said you thought you're messed up. This would be a reason why."

Ben glances down, "It's not like I think of her like that." and he lets out a stressed breath before facing Doug. "And we should stop talking about it before I do."

"Okay," Doug accepts, before he thinks aloud, "So, basically, your father came here because you told on them for not teaching you English and then he started accusing you of that." He slowly nods, before he comments, "Well, that's a good reason to get mad, I guess." Ben fails to respond. "Look. Ben," Doug sighs, before Ben meets his eyes. "I think you should tell Fairy Godmother what happened."

Ben shakes his head, "No."

"I know he hurt you." Ben hears the change in his tone. "He made your shoulder worse, didn't he?" Ben merely looks away. "You need to tell her."

Ben faces him again, "No one's going to know."

"Ben. You need help," Doug counters. "You can't keep this a secret."

"Why not?" he nonchalantly questions. "I have a lot. I can have one more."

"He hurt you," Doug worriedly whispers. "What if it happens again?" Ben can see the tears gleaming in his eyes. "You need to tell Fairy Godmother. It's okay to ask for help."

"No," Ben irritably interrupts. "It isn't." He shakes his head, "I can't hurt my mother like that. She would never…"

He notices his frustration, "Ben." and he looks up at him again. "If your mother gets upset with you for asking for help so that you can be safe, then maybe… Well, maybe you're better off without her."

Ben feels the tears intrude his eyes, "I can't do that. I need her."

"Ben," Doug tries to reason. "If she's letting this happen, then you don't need her. You would probably be better off if you could get away from them both."

"You don't get it," Ben erupts, before he gulps. "I need her in my life." His eyes shift, "I can't think of life without her in it." and then he shakes his head as the tears fall. "I can't get her mad at me. I can't make her sad. I'm not telling on him."

It takes a minute for Doug to quietly respond, "I know you care about your mother, Ben, but as king you need to take care of yourself first. You need to be safe."

"No," Ben shouts at him with furrowed brows. "No. Okay?" He lets out a long breath, "I am tired of not having things I want because I'm king. I want her. I need her. That's it." Doug stays silent, and Ben shakily breathes. "She is one thing in my life that makes it okay. She's always been there. No one is taking her. I have her. It's staying that way."

"If she cares about you," Doug slowly counters, "then she will stay with you even if you tell Fairy Godmother about what your father did." He watches Ben wipe the tears away as more fall. "You know I'm right. You need to tell Fairy Godmother. Your mother will understand."

Ben shakes his head, "She's never going to pick me over him." and Doug silences. "I can't tell on him. I can't do it."

It takes a moment for Doug to inform, "Fairy Godmother is going to talk to you on Monday. I know this is hard, but I want you to think about it more." He thinks up, "Is all of this hurt really worth one girl?" He watches as Ben shuts his eyes and turns his head down, hiding behind the laptop. Doug continues to frown, "It's just something to think about."

* * *

\- Okay, so I thought I was using the 2015 calendar, because that's when the movie came out; however, because of what date I had Evie's birthday as in my notes and comparing to where I actually put it, it would realistically be taking place on the calendar of 2019. Seriously, I looked back for past years and it just kept getting farther and farther away (probably because of leap year), so 2019 is the only year that works. I'm so glad I didn't use Aziz that much in this fic. I thought Ramadan was going to be during the summer, but in 2019 it would be during the school year. I really could have messed everything up... I didn't describe the moon at all in this, did I? That's a thing I tend to do, and I feel like if I messed up the year then that would be messed up too...Jeezes. What else did I mess up? You know, I actually thought of something as I was writing the next two chapters. Does anyone want to guess which class Aziz takes with Ben? Anyone? Sociology, you say? Why would you think that? You're stupid. You're wrong. What? I wrote that last time I posted? No, I didn't. I couldn't have, because if you look back in the chapter The Difference Between Life and Death you will clearly see that they were taking Communications together... The fic is just too long, I'm telling you. I wouldn't be surprised if I made more mistakes. Feel free to let me know if you think you've found one. As of now, we can just assume that Ben and Aziz took both Communications and Intro to Sociology together in the afternoon, because that's not terribly convenient or cramped at all... When were Ben's other classes? I'm sure I... English. He takes Pre-College English with Evie in the afternoon too. Well, that's just brilliant. You know, they eat around noon (which I've clearly stated a lot beneath the chapter titles), so I don't know how they have enough time for three classes in the afternoon, but hey. I guess they do.


	142. It Has to be This Way

**It Has to be This Way**

 **(Friday Night)**

"And you've got my Chemistry done, right?" Chad makes sure.

"Yeah." Carlos hands him the worksheet and notebook, before he watches Chad copy the information from the notebook to the worksheet. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Well," Carlos unsurely starts. "Mal is getting all—" He cuts himself off, and Chad faces him. "Well, she's Mal, and I kind of want to know what's up with you and Ben."

"What about me and Ben?" Chad cautiously questions.

"Well." He hesitates, "You know, just like… Do you like him?"

Chad goes back to copying the information, "It doesn't matter if I like him or not. He has a girlfriend, not to even mention that he's the damn ruler of this country and homosexual behavior is still illegal." He widens his eyes, "Point is, he's just a friend. Mal's got nothing to worry about."

"I'm not sure if that matters," Carlos comments. "She's very…"

"She's a dragon," Chad finishes, "but Ben's a royal. She's just going to have to learn how to share him with the rest of the world." He looks back at him with slight fear, "She doesn't, like, eat people, does she?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Good," he lets out a breath. "Then there's nothing to worry about."

"But she does have magic and hypnotism," Carlos continues. "She could easily make you drop your pants in front of the class or give you acne."

Chad swiftly turns back to him, "You're going to tell her that she has nothing to worry about."

"What?" Carlos disbelieves. "Why me? She's never going to listen to me."

"At least you know her," he points out. "I'm just the jerk used her girlfriend and continuously hangs out with her boyfriend."

"Well, when you put it like that," Carlos gives in.

Chad finishes copying the information, "Great." before he places his worksheet in a blue folder. "Now for math." He looks over the table, "Where's the math?"

"Oh," Carlos frowns. "I guess I forgot it."

"But you did do it?" Chad gives him an intense look.

"Of course I did it," Carlos reassures, before he stands from the round table. "I'll go grab it. Hold on." He exits the room, goes down the hall, and he sighs at the sight of the keep out sign. He stares at it for a moment, before he grabs his key to undo the lock.

When he enters the room Jay shouts, "Carlos? What the hell."

He glimpses the blond on her knees, before he walks toward his bed, "Don't mind me. I just have to get something."

"You didn't even shut the door," Jay shouts.

Carlos looks back at the gaping door, "I guess I didn't." before he finds the math book in his backpack and takes it out.

"Get out of here," he yells.

"Okay. Okay," Carlos walks back towards the door. "I'm out of here."

After he gets back to Chad's room and sits at the table he lets out a long breath. "That it?" Chad questions.

"Yeah." Carlos hands him the notebook, "Have fun."

"I wouldn't call math fun," Chad mumbles as he begins to transfer the answers to his own notebook. "It's my worst subject."

"Which is why you're a year older than me, and you're doing Algebra while I was placed into Trig."

"Shut up."

"Okay," Carlos accepts, but after a minute of watching him write he questions, "So… even if Ben liked you back you wouldn't be with him, just because he's king?"

"First off, he doesn't like me like that, and secondly," he turns towards Carlos, "it's not his fault. In order for the whole sexual misconduct law to be revised the royal council would have to make a majority vote." He looks back at his notebook, "I know one thing for sure. My parents wouldn't vote for it to change."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a sin?" he thinks. "Because it's the same thing as rape?" He shifts his eyes in annoyance, "Hell if I know. All I know is that they wouldn't sign it, even if it's just because it would be a long process that could change the rest of the law." He mumbles as he continues to write, "If making gay relationships entirely legal means that the words could change enough so that things like rape could be legal, then maybe it's better if nothing changes."

"Ben is smart," Carlos comments. "He could do it right."

Chad cracks a smile, "Knowing Ben, he would get all detailed about it… It's better to have a wider interpretation. If we say that rape is illegal, that inappropriateness with children is illegal, and that street prostitution is illegal, then what? What if there's a case where someone was inappropriate with a teenager? Are they considered a child? Would it not count, because it's not full intercourse?" He shakes his head, "It has to be this way."

"Wait." Carlos remembers, "But prostitution is legal. There's legal prostitution now."

"Only because a law was able to be made that didn't contradict the first one," Chad counters. "The first one was just like thou shall not behave in a way which that thee Lord and Jesus Christ has commanded of thee, but the second one was just like in the business of sex work there are these things that make it a business and not prostitution."

"But if the law is that broad," Carlos continues in confusion, "then why can people have sex before marriage? I mean, that's a whole thing, right?"

"Funny story." Chad answers, "Once upon a time there was a preacher who broke the law." before he finishes the math assignment. "Thee end."

"That doesn't answer my question," he irritably responds.

"Look." Chad faces him again, "I'm not an atheist. If you want to talk about how Christians cherry pick passages from the Bible, then talk to Ben. I'm not doing this."

"Okay. I'll back off," Carlos comments, before he looks over the books. "Are we done?"

"Yeah," Chad lets out a breath.

"Okay, then," Carlos says as he picks up his materials. "I'll go."

When he turns around Chad interrupts, "Hold on." and he turns back to him. Chad tries to hand him a twenty, but Carlos merely darts his eyes between it and him.

"Didn't we just kind of fight?" he reminds him. "You really want to do this right now?"

"Why not?" Chad questions. "It's not like my girlfriend is."

Carlos nods, "Okay, then." before he takes the twenty, stuffs it into his pocket, and gets on his knees. "You know, I just thought of something." He looks up at him, "Wouldn't you giving me money for sexual acts be prostitution?"

"Yeah. And?"

"And that's illegal," Carlos answers.

Chad laughs, "So is having sex with a guy. I think we're past that. Don't you?"

"Right." Carlos thinks it over, "I guess we are." before he undoes the button to Chad's pants and unzips them.

* * *

When Lonnie enters the kitchen she sees Mal near the stove with her hand on it, and she rushes toward her, "What are you doing?" She takes Mal's hand off of it, but when she turns it over she sees no damage to the skin aside from a warmer color.

Mal takes her hand back, "What does it look like I'm doing?" before she turns to place her arm onto it. "I'm trying to get heat from this stupid burner."

"I'm guessing it's not working very well," she slowly comments.

"Wow. How perceptive of you," Mal sarcastically responds, before she shivers. "God. I haven't felt this cold since I got sick last year."

"What about Evie," Lonnie questions. "Isn't she like your heat source or something?"

"It's kind of hard to give heat when you have none." She gives up on the electric burner, turns it off, and turns to Lonnie. "Really," Mal stresses. "I like Evie. I do, but she's just not hot enough." She turns her vision to inferred for a moment, "Way less than you." before she raises her hand towards Lonnie's face.

When it reaches her cheek she lets out a breath, "You're cold."

"And you're warm," Mal frowns as she brings the hand down to her neck.

Mal begins to lean forward, but Lonnie puts a hand to her shoulder to stop her, "Sorry, but I'm really not like that."

She takes her hand off of her, "Have you even kissed a girl before?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?" Mal counters.

She's quiet for a moment, "Because I don't think of girls like that?"

"But don't you want to at least try it?" Mal attempts to convince her. "Be rebellious or some crap?"

Lonnie observes her, "I know you're cold and that you need someone to give you heat, but I don't need to kiss someone for fun or revenge or whatever and I'm sure I like guys, so…" Mal turns back to the stove and leans on it. "The heat thing. Does it have to be sexual?"

"No. Not if it's like just being in a sleeping bag with someone." Mal thinks, "Jay would do it. I know he would, but people already think that we've done things, which is just weird, and… I don't know. I just also don't want to make Evie feel like, like she can't provide for me."

"'Cause," Lonnie continues on. "I may not like girls like that, but if it doesn't have to be sexual then I might be able to watch a movie or something with you under the covers."

Mal turns back to her, "You would do that?"

"Well, yeah." She smirks, "You know, just to keep the school safe from you."

"And she has humor," Mal smiles back.

"So, a movie then?" Lonnie asks. "I can stay up for a couple more hours."

"Yeah," Mal nods. "That would be really nice."

"I try to be."

Mal laughs, "We'll see about that." before she begins to walk towards the door. "If we can turn Doug to socialism, then I'm sure I can convert you to the dark side of things."

"I think you mean socialness," Lonnie corrects. "Socialism is a form of economy."

"Whatever," Mal bypasses. "Right now, I'm just glad you are a person who has heat and a decent enough personality." She eyes at her pink shirt, "Even if it does look like you got fashion advice from Audrey."

She glances down, "What's wrong with it?"

"Personally?" Mal questions. "I just don't think you're pale enough for it. Hot pink, maybe, but that color just sticks out so bad on you. And not in a good way."

Lonnie sighs, "So, what would your fashion advice be? Black?"

"Well, black looks good on everybody," Mal answers, "but no. Red. I think red would complement you very greatly."


	143. Demons

**Demons**

 **(Saturday Night)**

After Aziz notices Ben at a table in the corner of the library he walks up to him, "Hey."

"We're doing homework," Chad interrupts. "Ben can't talk right now."

"Yes," Ben follows his lead, smiling as he looks back at Aziz. "We're doing homework."

"Look. This will only take a minute," he comments before stepping forward. "It's just, I haven't seen you in class. Are you okay?"

"Yes," Ben frowns. "I'm having class out of class alone. Or, uh, not alone. A person." He wets his lips before confirming, "I'm fine."

"I mean, that's good," Aziz uneasily responds. "Because, after what happened Thursday—"

"I'm fine," Ben irritably responds.

Chad looks at him, "What happened Thursday?"

Ben turns toward him, but he fails to answer before facing Aziz again. Aziz doesn't speak, merely glancing between the two of them. "I'm fine," Ben says again.

"Okay," Aziz continues to frown. "Do you still need help with Sociology or Communications?"

Ben shakes his head, "No. I don't think so."

He nods, "Okay, then." and then he pauses before looking between them again. "See you later, I guess."

After he leaves Chad switches back to French, "So, what happened Thursday?"

Ben sighs, "Nothing. My father just came to see me."

Chad frowns, "Did something happen?"

"It's my father," Ben gives him a look. "Of course something happened."

"No. I mean, like, how bad was it?"

"What makes you think it was bad?" Ben denies.

"By how he was acting," Chad raises his eyebrows. "How frustrated you are."

"What are you talking about?" Ben turns back to his notebook to look up the definitions on his phone. "I'm always frustrated."

Chad smiles, "Touché." before he laughs. "Hey. Maybe you just need to get laid."

"God," Ben emphasizes. "You know, I can't even think about having sex with Mal."

"Seriously?"

"Well, yeah." Ben shakes his head, "She's just so assertive and—" before he raises his hands and lets out a loud breath.

"Okay," Chad accepts, "but doesn't that just mean she's the kind of girl who would do all the work for you? That seems pretty awesome to me." He grins, "You could just lay back, relax, and let it happen."

Ben's frown deepens, "Maybe that's the problem. I'm just really bad at letting things happen." He picks his pencil back up, "Not that it matters. I don't think either of us are ready for that kind of thing yet, especially now."

"What makes you think she isn't?"

"Because," Ben says to bide time, but he finds it hard to say it without saying it. "She just had a bad fling once, okay?"

"Bad fling?"

"This translator sucks," Ben complains. "Can you tell me what this word is in French?"

Chad looks at the word, "Current? Like the ocean?" before he looks back at Ben. "Isn't that just courant?"

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "Found it." before he writes the French definition next to the English word. "I hate this. This is taking forever."

"Yeah," Chad agrees. "It must suck to have to actually pay attention to what you're writing instead of just copying straight from the glossary."

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "Shut up. You don't even do your own homework."

"Exactly," Chad counters. "I'm not the one trying to do homework." He grins again, "This must really suck for you."

Ben looks back down, "You are so empathetic right now."

"Thank you."

Ben swiftly turns back to him, noticing Chad trying not to laugh, and he can't help but grin in disbelief, "Fuck you."

* * *

"You did what with Mal?" Audrey exasperates.

Lonnie slowly answers, "Watched a movie."

"And gave her heat," Ruby finishes for her.

"Indirectly," Lonnie defends. "What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" Audrey repeats. "You saw the court case. It was deemed that she wasn't even remotely human."

"Fairies are legally human," Lonnie frowns in response.

"Legally, yes, but they are not the creation of the Lord." Audrey quotes, "Deuteronomy. Chapter eighteen. There shall not be found among you an enchanter or a witch, for all that do these things are an abomination unto the Lord." She emphasizes, "These are not God's creatures. They are Satan's work. They are inherently evil, and Mal— no matter how much she claims she wants to change— is no different. It's in her DNA. You can't trust her."

Ruby unsurely comments, "Didn't you just tell me that you told Chad you trust that she'd tell you the truth?"

"Yeah," Audrey counters, "because the devil can tell the truth when it fits his means. If Mal really was worried about Ben and Chad, then there's no reason why she wouldn't tell me the truth. In fact, she'd have to if she wanted me to do her dirty work for her."

"I still don't get it." Lonnie gets back to the subject, "Why shouldn't I be spending time with Mal?"

"She's going to corrupt you," Audrey asserts. "She's evil. She's going to want to make you evil too."

"Okay," she softly speaks. "Mal joked about turning me to the dark side, but she's been really nice to me… You know, relatively speaking."

"Nice for a demon, you mean," Audrey interprets, "but don't you want better than that?" Lonnie eyes down at the floor. "Okay. Look." Audrey goes to sit next to her on the bed, "I'm just looking out for you. You know how immoral Mal is. Give it a week, and I bet she'll try to get with you."

"She's actually already tried to kiss me," Lonnie admits.

"You see," Audrey sighs. "That just proves my point."

"She was desperate for heat," Lonnie excuses. "That doesn't make her evil or immoral."

"No," Audrey accepts. "What makes her immoral is her sexual activity with other girls."

"People can't choose who they're attracted to," she defends, and she hurriedly continues before Audrey can speak. "Think about it. If it wasn't a sin for people to be with members of the same sex, would you ever kiss another girl?"

"No," Audrey firmly answers, "because I don't like girls, and the reason why that is is because I'm a true believer in God and I pray to remain pure. All homosexuality is is the devil whispering in your ear, because he hates the Lord's creation and wants us to stop reproducing and die off."

Lonnie shuts her eyes, "Sorry. This is too crazy for me." before she stands from the bed.

Audrey stands from it as well to takes hold of her arms, "I'm not crazy. This is reality." and she widens her eyes. "I admit it, everyone has their own personal demons, but that is far different from actually spending time with one."

"This is the part where you tell me Mal is a demon?" Lonnie predicts.

"Yes," Audrey confirms. "She is, and if you know what's good for you, you will stay far, far away from her."

Lonnie shakes her head, "I'm not even going to entertain this." before she takes a step back, Audrey's hands fall from her arms, and she turns around to exit the dorm.

Audrey stares at the closed door, "May God be with her."

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Ben sees the doctor, headmistress asks Ben "Final Time", Ben's mother shows up, and Ben works on king stuff with Chad. I'm trying to get this fic done by the new year. Doubtful, but wish me luck.


	144. Take It Easy

**Take It Easy**

 **(Sunday Afternoon)**

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Ben, but we have a problem," Dr. Robert says before he sits down at his desk.

Ben frowns, "How bad is it?"

"Well, you won't be taking that sling off today," he frowns in return. "The x-ray shows that it's almost as bad as when you started."

"I should be healed by now," Ben thinks aloud.

"Yes," the grey haired doctor solemnly responds, "I would have thought so too, but it looks like you're going to have to suffer the same amount of time a human would." Ben looks away from him. "Do you know what could have caused this?"

Ben's eyes shift, "You know how guys can be." before he awkwardly smiles.

"Roughhousing?"

Ben meets his blue eyes before looking off, "I guess you could say that."

"I told you to take it easy," he reminds him.

Ben faces him, "I thought I was."

Dr. Robert nods, "It's something to learn from, I suppose, but now you know better."

"Yes." Ben glances down, "I suppose I do."

The doctor rolls his chair an inch closer, before he seriously addresses, "You need to know that even after you are healed enough to take the sling off, you will still not be fully healed. It will take a full year for that." Ben's frown deepens, and the doctor looks intensely into his eyes. "If this kind of thing continues to happen during the year, I cannot guarantee you that you won't need surgery."

It takes a moment for Ben to say, "Okay." and then the doctor nods. "Is that it?"

"Not quite," Dr. Roberts answers, and he pauses in observation. "Sinclair's notes say your blood pressure and heart rate were higher than usual. I would like to take a moment to discuss that."

Ben nods, "Okay."

"I know you're into sports," the doctor recalls. "Have you been taking energy drinks by any chance?"

Ben shakes his head, "No." before he wets his lips. "Maybe I'm just anxious." He tries hard not to look away, "I knew that my shoulder wasn't better when I came in here."

"It must be very serious," the doctor concerns, "if it's also affecting your heart rate."

"No. Um," Ben glances down. "It's just…" He faces him again, "I really wanted to get out of this sling today, you know, and I feared I wouldn't."

Dr. Roberts nods, "Okay. We will just have to see if there's a difference next time."

Ben hesitates, "Are we done?" and the doctor nods.

When Ben stands he comments, "Just one last thing." and Ben turns around. "As you know, you've always had a higher blood pressure than most people." Ben eyes the floor. "It has been and continues to be my recommendation that you do what you can to keep it lower."

"You know meditation hasn't worked," Ben frowns.

"Then another calming activity," Dr. Roberts recommends. "I know being king must be stressful, and extra stress is not something your heart needs. It's important that you can take some time for yourself too. After all, there is no kingdom without a king."

Ben nods, "Right."

The doctor smiles, "Take it easy, and have a good day."

"Good day," Ben attempts to smile in return, but it immediately falls as he turns around and leaves the room.

* * *

"Yes," Ben's mother agrees. "The theater did such a great job of recreating our story."

Ben looks between his parents, "You mean the play we saw a few years ago?" and they face him. "That wasn't accurate at all."

His mother sighs, "Ben. It's the thought that counts."

Ben shakes his head, "I'm going to grab a soda." before he stands and heads for the kitchen; however, after he gets the soda he hears the large footsteps and turns around.

His father steps forward, "Ben. I'm sorry about what all happened the other night." and his eyes shift. "It shouldn't have happened."

Ben waits before saying, "And?"

"And I'm apologizing," his father unsurely frowns. "Aren't you going to accept it?"

Ben observes him, "No."

"I don't understand. I said sorry."

"Yeah," Ben nearly smiles in disbelief. "You said sorry, but you always say sorry. Coming from you, it's lost all meaning."

"I just want us to be able to move on from this," his father informs.

Ben furrows his eyebrows, "This is not the time for social customs, Father." and he takes a step forward. "Look at me. What do you see?"

He lifts a hand, "My son."

"And?"

"And what?" his father asks.

"And what else?" Ben grits his teeth, but his father doesn't respond. "This stupid sling," Ben almost shouts. "I was supposed to be able to take it off today, but thanks to you now I can't." He gulps as the tears fill his eyes, "And the doctor said that the next time my shoulder gets hurt, he can't guarantee that I won't need surgery."

His mouth gapes as he slowly says, "I didn't mean—"

"You never mean it," Ben interrupts, before he laughs, "But you know what the worst part of all this is? It's not the extra few weeks with the sling. It's not all of the agony you have unwittingly put me through." He smiles as the tears fall, "The worst part of all this is that I've stood up for you. I've made excuses for you, have even told myself it's my fault for not being able to be as patient as Mother… And now, now that you've done this, whenever people ask if you've ever hurt me, I can no longer say that you would never lay a hand on me." He takes a shaky breath, "Because, you did lay a hand on me— you gripped my fractured shoulder— and I can't just say that you've never hurt me, because knowing it or not you've done that in several ways. Sure. It may have just been psychological, but I'm telling you it still fucking counts."

"I'm sorry," his father can't help but say.

Ben shakes his head, "Of course, you are." before he gulps down the soda, tosses it away, and goes to grab another.

"You just had one of those."

Ben faces him with raised brows, "And?"

"And your mother's done research on this," his father lets him know. "Even just one can a week can shorten someone's life by several years."

Ben blankly stares at him, "And yet, I fail to care." before he walks past him to get back to the dining room.

* * *

"Can you at least tell me you've been eating properly back at the school?" Ben's mother concerns near the large, ornate front doors.

Ben frowns, "No. That would be a lie."

"You could have at least had some gravy with your potatoes." She glances off, "I don't understand." before she meets his hazel green eyes. "Why are you doing this to yourself? What is so bad about meat that you can't have it?"

"I would like to have some normalcy in my life," Ben softly responds.

"Humans eat meat," his mother counters. "It's not that big of a deal."

"It is when people can't help but bring it up," Ben firmly disagrees, and then his mother silences. He glances down, "Look. I need to ask you something." before he meets her sad, brown eyes. "Why wasn't I taught English?"

"Oh, honey," his mother sighs. "Is now really the time for this?"

"I need to know," he asserts.

She takes a deep breath, "Alright." but it takes her a minute to collect her thoughts. "You need to understand, a child that young cannot be expected to keep a secret."

Ben stands straighter before cautiously inquiring, "You did this purposefully so that I couldn't tell anyone anything?"

"It was the only way," his mother insists.

"Bullcrap," Ben furrows his eyebrows.

"Okay. Look." His mother lifts a hand in reassurance, "Your father insisted that we keep things from you, because he feared you would tell someone those things. It was me who decided to keep you from learning English." Ben looks away. "I wanted to be honest with you, to be able to let you know the truth."

Ben faces her again, tears in his eyes, "And what was so wrong with withholding those secrets until I was old enough to learn how to keep one?"

"And have you hear everyone else's side of the story before ours?" his mother disbelieves. "Honey. They would have brainwashed you with all sorts of nonsense. By the time you would have been old enough, there would have been no way you'd understand."

"So, like those cults people call religion," Ben counters, "you decided to get me to your way of thinking while I was still young and impressionable."

"It wasn't like that," she denies, before she watches the tears fall to his cheeks and places her hand on his shoulder. "Honey. All I ever wanted was to have an honest relationship with you. This was the only option. There's no way we would have been on such good terms had I built everything we've said and done on a pile of lies. Surely, you can understand that."

"How could I?" Ben sadly responds. "I'm forced to lie every day."

"Oh, honey," his mother comments, before she sees more tears fall and goes in to hug him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through all of this."

He feels his shaky breathing begin to settle at the closeness of her scent, each breath a calming embrace of it. He eyes down and sees the bare skin of her neck, and his stomach growls as he feel his teeth ache. He's so close. Just a couple more inches and he'd have her. "No." He pushes her back, and they separate.

"Honey," she comments in confusion.

"I have to go," Ben merely says, before he turns around.

"I love you," his mother lets him know.

Ben looks down, "I love you too." before his eyes meet the door again and he opens it.

* * *

\- **DeathCrawler** Thank you.

\- **Danifan3000** I don't think you're truly missing anything, but I'm happy to explain. First off, the so-called truce was mainly just a political move. Since Ben's family rules the country and Audrey's family has only been designated to one kingdom, it's very important for her family (as well as any other royal family) to have a decent enough relationship with Ben's family. The truce was less about making things right with Mal and more to do with making things right with Ben, as he is the ruler of the country now... Moving onto Audrey's concern for Mal's safety when she thought Ben might be emotionally hurting Mal, that's probably just her feeling guilty that her ex could have hurt someone else regardless of the other girl's species or religion. A good Christian girl has a duty to bring her significant other to God's worship, so since she was both unable to do that and because he may have been mistreating the people he was dating after he had dated her, it's ultimately her fault... Or at least that's what she would probably think. The main reason she contradicts herself would most likely be due to her religion. Not of offend anyone here, but because the Bible contradicts itself someone who follows its teaching are very good at separating them and interpreting them in a way that they won't contradict... I don't know how you would do that, but for instance: in that last scene with Audrey she quoted a passage from Deuteronomy which said that enchanters and witches are an abomination to the Lord, but I bet if I looked up some parable or quote from Jesus that it would say something along the lines of love your neighbors like you love yourself and to not hate the sinners but the sin. That's how Audrey can be on semi-okay terms with Mal and still believe that she is not a creation of God, and if you attempt to think about it from her perspective it's not very contradictory at all actually... She's just probably not going to want to be around Mal very often, because Mal is a demon trying to convince people that being bad feels good and to act on that sin... I hope I answered your comment. If you still have questions... or non-questions like this last time, then feel free to post them. If you're confused about it, then other people might be too. **PS** : I don't think Mal is actually a demon, and Ben is not the antichrist. Man, so I had this brilliant idea for the novels. If you look up the descriptions of the first and second beasts from Revelations, it is said that the first beast had a deadly wound of which was healed. Trust me, when you read it it fits Ben's father's story perfectly for him to be the first beast. Awesome, right? Of course, Ben (Beau) being an atheist would probably just say that with enough time any prophecy can come true, and because the novels are going to take place 50 million years into the future, it would not be that hard to believe that it would have happened by then... I feel like I'm all talk. I have to write it.

\- Post: 12/05/2018


	145. Final Time

**Final Time**

 **(Monday Afternoon)**

"Ben," the headmistress begins, "as you probably know by now, a few other students have come to me and told a story involving your father. "Do you know what I'm referring to?"

He nods with a frown, "Yes."

She clasps her hands, "Now, you know I worked with your parents for many years to unite the magic and nonmagic peoples, so I'm the last person who would like to think that they've hurt you in any way." She watches him look down, "However, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask a final time." and he faces her again. "Has your father or mother hurt you in any way I should know about?"

"No," Ben immediately monotones.

Fairy Godmother frowns in unsureness before rephrasing, "Are you sure there isn't anything you would like to tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell," Ben confirms.

"So, your father has never hurt you or your mother in any way?" she interrogates.

Ben's eyes shift, knowing his usual answer would no longer be true, before he meets her brown eyes and evenly answers, "I can neither confirm nor deny that."

The headmistress's eyes widen, before she sternly comments, "Ben. This is not the time to be political." and then he looks away. "If someone is hurting you— if your parents are hurting you— you need to tell me. This is serious."

"I know that."

"Then tell me the truth," she insists. "What happened with your father last Thursday?"

Ben thinks for a moment, "He came to see me. He was upset that I would even think they haven't been there for me… He told me I'd been disrespectful." He wets his lips before meeting her eyes, "That's about it. He just left after that."

"Did he grab onto you?" she inquires.

It takes a moment for Ben to confirm, "He touched my arms."

"Did he hurt you?" she questions again.

"He…" Ben wets his lips, "I'm fine. Nothing permanent happened."

"And temporarily speaking?" she prods on.

He pauses, "I'm just sick of wearing this sling, but it's not like my father actually caused my shoulder to crack in the first place."

Fairy Godmother sighs, "Ben. You really need to stop making excuses."

"It's not an excuse," Ben counters. "It's the truth. My father didn't cause my shoulder to crack in the first place. I wasn't watching where I was going, I fell, and it cracked. It's my fault. Not his." His eyes shift, "He tried to save me from falling."

The headmistress shuts her eyes and places a hand to her head, "We're done here."

"We are?" Ben's mouth gapes in unsureness.

"Yes." She opens her eyes, "You're welcome to come back, but as of now there's nothing I can do for you." She rests her hand down over of other one, but she keeps eye contact with him. "If you were Christian, I would tell you that God only helps people who help themselves. But given the way things are, if you don't have faith in God, if you don't have faith in me, and if you don't have faith in the common government…" She shakes her head, "I honestly don't know what else I could say to you, Ben."

He's quiet for a moment, noticing her eyes gleam, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," she slightly nods. "For you."

* * *

When Ben gets back to the dorm Doug stands from his seat, "Did you tell her?" and Ben merely shakes his head as he shuts the door. "What?" he disbelieves.

Ben faces him, "I didn't tell her."

"Ben," Doug uneasily comments. "I know it happened. You know it happened. She knows— everybody knows this happened. Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

He pauses, "I don't think I heard you swear before."

"Well, what do you expect?" Doug steps forward, and Ben notices the tears shine in his eyes. "People die from this, Ben."

Ben frowns as he reassures, "I'm safe."

"Hell you are."

"I'm my father's only heir," Ben reminds him, "and my mother loves me. She would never let anything happen to me. I'm safe."

"You and your frickin' mother," Doug fumes. "Ben. She doesn't help you. She's keeping you from getting help." His eyes widen, "You did all of this just for her, didn't you?"

"I love her," he softly excuses.

"I told you," Doug sternly reminds him. "This is not worth one girl, especially one girl who's your neglectful mother." Ben doesn't speak. "Do you understand me? Your mother hurts you, because she's not there for you." He adjusts his glasses, "You may love her, but I can tell you for sure that she doesn't love you."

Ben takes a step forward, "Don't say that."

"It's true," Doug continues on. "If she really loved you, you wouldn't even be living with your father right now."

"She doesn't even know," Ben defends.

"About this. Maybe," Doug accepts. "But I'm guessing he's done this kind of thing before." Ben looks away. "And she didn't do anything then, either, did she?"

Ben charges at him and holds him against the wall, "You don't know. Stop talking."

Doug hears Ben take a couple breathes as his eyes move and his grip loosens, "Ben?" His hand drops to his side, and he stares as though he's in a daze. Doug tilts his head, "Ben?" and the next moment Ben collapses to the floor. "Ben!" Doug kneels down and reaches for his good arm, "Ben. Ben."

When Ben opens his eyes he mumbles, "Get off." and then Doug stands again.

He lets out a breath in relief, "What happened?" Ben outstretches his arm, and Doug helps him up. He steps over to the fridge. "Ben?"

He takes out a flavored water, "Best guess?" before he goes to sit down and open it.

Doug watches as Ben takes a drink and then stare down at the bottle, before he goes to sits down across from him, "What are you thinking?"

"That I've been eating enough," Ben contemplates. "That I made sure of it."

"Ben," Doug hesitates, "when was the last time you had meat?"

He lifts a shoulder, "At least as long as when I ate with Chad."

"Ben." He concerns, "That has to be weeks."

"I know," he whispers.

"You just fainted," Doug thinks aloud. "I should get you something."

Ben shakes his head, "No. I don't want it."

Minutes seem to pass, only the sound of people out in the hall able to be heard, before Doug goes back to the original subject, "What did Fairy Godmother say?"

Ben looks up, "What?"

"After you said the thing with your father didn't happen," Doug clarifies. "What did she say afterwards? Is she going to report it anyway?"

He eyes the plastic bottle again, "She gave up."

"What?" Doug shocks.

Ben wets his lips, "She gave up on me… She said she can't help me." He shakes his head, "I thought a lot would happen. I never thought that would."

"I mean, yeah." Doug furrows his brows in disbelief, "Thee Fairy Godmother doesn't help you of all people?" Ben stays silent. "How many times has she tried to help you with this?"

It takes a moment for Ben to answer, "I don't know… I lost count." before he faces him. "I didn't think this would happen."

Doug shakes his head, "What were you hoping? That you could keep saying nothing is happening and still have someone do something about it?"

Ben looks down, "In my dreams, maybe." and he pauses. "In life… I just want my family to be together."

"You don't want your family, Ben," Doug counters. "You want your mother."

"Same thing," Ben mumbles. "She would never leave him… not for me."

There's a pause, before Doug softly reminds him, "She's your mother. If she really loved you, then she would leave him just to keep you safe."

Ben meets his eyes, "No. She loves me." before his eyes shift. "She just loves him more." It's quiet for a moment. "He's doing better, she says. People change." Ben shakes his head, "But nothing changes. Nothing."


	146. Uncomfortable

**Uncomfortable**

 **(Monday Night)**

When Doug opens the door his mouth gapes, "Your highness."

Belle smiles, "Doug."

Ben walks toward the door, "Mother?" He looks over her yellow, midsleeve shirt and black, flowing skirt. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," she clutches the golden coin purse in her hands. "You said dinner could be any night of my choosing. I thought tonight was decent enough." He fails to speak, "Unless, of course, you've already got plans."

"No," Ben hurriedly says, before he smiles. "Just give me five minutes."

Doug watches Ben open the dresser drawer, before he looks back at Belle, "So…"

"You've been Ben's roommate for how long?" she inquires.

"Well, um." He adjusts his glasses, "After this year it would be a full three years."

She smiles, "That's good. It means he should be able to trust you, if needed."

"Trust me?" Doug unsurely comments.

"You two have been friends, haven't you?"

"Well, yes," he begins. "I just mean… Why would Ben need to trust me?"

"All royals need someone they can trust," she informs. "I'm glad he has someone."

"Doesn't he have you?" Doug tests.

"I'm his mother," she reminds him. "I may have only been able to have had one child, but I'm fairly sure no teenage boy is going to confide everything to his parents."

It takes a minute for Doug to comment, "I mean no disrespect here, but isn't that just a little hypocritical?"

"Is what hypocritical?" she frowns.

"You're glad he has someone he can trust," Doug slowly states, "but he's not allowed to tell anyone anything. He wasn't allowed to tell his friends he gets deadly fevers… He wasn't allowed to tell us— or anyone— anything."

"When did you learn about this?" she questions.

"When he fainted in class earlier this semester and told Aziz to come here to get his medicine," Doug informs. "He keeps it hidden under his bed like some huge secret."

It takes a moment for Belle to respond, "It can be hard for people to admit they're sick."

"So, you didn't tell him not to tell anyone?" Doug raises his eyebrows.

She thinks, "I don't recall having said anything of the like." before she nods down. "If I have, it was misguided of me and I apologize."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," Doug counters.

She nods, "Very right you are." before she sees Ben in a blue button up and black tie. "Honey. Have I ever told you not to tell people about your fevers?"

Ben looks at her in near disbelief, "Yes."

She shuts her eyes, "I'm sorry." before she looks into his eyes. "Can you forgive me?"

Ben feels the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, "Of course." Doug turns toward Ben with shock, his mouth gaping, and Ben shakes his head in return before he walks toward his mother. "Let's go."

* * *

After the waitress leaves Ben's mother comments, "So." and Ben faces her. "You've gotten me alone. What now?"

"I don't know," Ben's eyes shift. "Honestly, I didn't think I would get this far." She nods. "How was your day?"

"Fine. You?"

Ben glances down, "Fine." realizing now just how stupid that question was.

It's quiet for a minute, before his mother comments, "About last night." and he faces her again. "You need to know I had the best of intentions, but clearly I didn't think it through. It was very selfish of me to forgo your education just so I could be honest with you about what happened when I met your father. I should have put your needs first. I'm sorry."

Ben frowns, "It's okay. I know you were just doing what you thought was best."

"Thank you."

Ben taps the table, "You're welcome." before he looks back up at her. Her yellow shirt swoops under her collarbones, and her neck is completely bare. So much skin is showing, and as he traces the veins with his eyes he imagines what it would be like to taste that sweet scent. He takes a deep breath, moving his eyes to the brick wall behind her; however, he pictures himself pushing her up against it, holding onto her tight as he leans into the left of her neck. "God."

"Honey?" she questions.

He shakes his head, "Sorry. Bad thoughts." before he situates his seating.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head again, "No." and before he can continue Bridget comes back in with a steak, a salad, a basket of mozzarella sticks, and a pitcher of fat free milk. "Thank you."

She smiles, "You're very welcome. Enjoy your meal."

Ben glances down at the bloody steak, before he notices his mother poke her fork into the leaves of her salad. She pauses just before the fork get to her mouth, "Ben?"

"Sorry," he shakes his head. "It's just, we don't have anything like that at the house."

She laughs, "It wasn't for a lack of trying. You just couldn't figure out how to eat it, I suppose." before she eats the first forkful. Ben runs his tongue over his sharp teeth, and he wonders how anyone else could eat it. Surely, the teeth would just poke right through, and the leaves would get stuck in them. He watches his mother poke the fork through more of the salad, and he realizes it would probably be a lot like that. "Actually, there was this frightening moment when you nearly choked on a carrot. I think it was after that that I stopped trying to give you it."

"I hate carrots," Ben narrows his eyes, before he mulls it over. "Is that why we cook our vegetables now?"

"It seemed easier for you," she comments before glancing at his plate. "Honey. You're stalling." She gestures her fork to his steak, "You promised me if we had dinner you would eat." Ben looks down at his plate, and he hesitantly picks up the fork and knife. He takes his time to cut it into pieces, watching the meat juice flow onto the plate as he does so. Humans have a thing against meat. He knows this. He also knows humans have an even worse thing against blood. He looks up at her. Is he really going to have to eat this in front of her? She meets his eyes, "Go on." and with that Ben lets out a breath before stabbing his fork into the first piece; however, it's only after a couple more bites that his mother intrudes. "How does it taste?"

Ben's frown deepens, and he merely responds, "It's steak." She notices him put down the utensils and merely nods, before she busies herself with her own meal. A minute passes before Ben picks up the fork again, and after the first couple bites he can't help but relish in the warm juice. Piece by piece, he bites into it, and he feels the liquid settle in his mouth.

His mother sees him place five pieces into his mouth within the span of fifteen seconds, and she can't help but interrupt, "Ben." He halts. "Don't eat so fast. You'll get a stomachache." Ben looks down at the plate and notices half of the large steak is already gone, and he sighs before setting his fork down again. "No." She shuts her eyes, "I didn't mean—" before she opens them and looks into his. "Please. I want you to eat. Just do it normally."

"Normally," Ben repeats.

"You know. Slow down," she explains. "There's no need to rush. Enjoy it." She pauses, "Can you even taste it when you eat that fast?"

Ben's mouth opens before he answers, "I know I like it… That's all I know. I'm bad at going slow. I've tried to figure out what it tastes like before, but when I eat it all I know is that it tastes good." He hesitates, "All I know is that I want more, and then… I can't stop." He watches her eyes shift down in contemplation. "Mother?"

"We're going to play a game," she softly speaks, before she faces him. "The rules are simple. You can only eat one square of that steak every one minute. You chew it for at least fifteen seconds, and then, if you can, you will tell me what it was like."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Is that really necessary?"

"We're practicing mindfulness," she lets him know, before she nods down. "Now, check your watch. You may begin when the second hand reaches the top."

"My watch is digital," he informs.

"Just start at the beginning of the minute."

Ben hears the frustration in her voice and looks down at his watch, before the new minute begins and he picks up his fork. He brings the steak slice to his mouth, and he attempts to slowly chew it. Fifteen seconds he recalls, as he stares at his watch, and by the time the seconds hit the mark all that's left is a ball of dry strings. How is he supposed to swallow this? This is why he doesn't like fat on his steak to begin with. All that's left is a hard-to-swallow ball. It takes him a moment to get the courage to finish it, and he takes a few gulps of milk to help it down his throat. He frowns at his mother, "This is stupid. Did you think that maybe I eat the way I do for a reason? Fifteen seconds is too long."

"You're not a wild animal," she counters, and he freezes. "You don't need devourer your prey before it gets away. You can take your time and eat civilly." Ben doesn't speak. "Fifteen seconds isn't too long. You just have to chew more slowly."

"And what?" Ben frustrates. "Just let it sit in my mouth?"

"Exactly right," she seriously answers. "Taste your food." She raises her eyebrows, "Were you able to this time?"

Ben looks off before wetting his lips, "Not really."

"Then try again," she says in a quieter tone. Ben looks back down at the stake, three squares across and three down: there's fourteen pieces left. Is he seriously going to have to do this another fourteen times? "Ben." He looks back up at her. "I would like you to try again, please." Ben doesn't respond, merely looking back down at the steak, stabbing another piece with his fork, before he brings it to his mouth. He tries not to bite it immediately; however, he can feel the juice dripping from it, and he sucks on it to get more. He feels that urge again, the intense feeling to bite it and then finish off the rest, and when he does bite into it he tries not to tear apart the entire square. He tries to go from corner to corner, but it just seems so arbitrary. He glances back up at his mother. Why were they doing this again? Mindfulness, he recalls, whatever the fuck that is. "How does it taste?" she questions.

Ben finishes off the rest of the square, and his mouth slightly gapes, "I forgot I was supposed to do that."

She continues to frown, "Try again." Ben waits for the minute to pass before he places another piece into his mouth. It's colder now, and the juice tastes different. The taste is stronger but not really in a good way, like it's a bit bitter now. He bites it in annoyance. It's been sitting for too long. It has to be warm. It doesn't matter how little it's cooked so long as it's warm, but now it isn't. "How is it?" his mother inquires.

"Not very great," Ben irritably responds. "It's cold now, and it has to be warm. It's a lot better when it's warm."

"Well," his mother uneasily comments, "the waitress should be rounding back to us soon. We can ask her to heat it when she does."

"The juice is going to evaporate if it's heated," Ben points out.

"The juice?" Ben frowns, before he glances down. "You mean the blood?"

Ben meets her eyes and firmly responds, "I said what I meant. The meat juice won't exist if it gets microwaved. I know."

"Ben," his mother tries to reason, "you can either eat it cold or make it warm. You've got a decision to make."

Ben looks off before mumbling, "Warm."

She nods, "Okay, then. We will tell the waitress when she gets back to us."

"I have a better idea," Ben immediately says, before he takes his phone from his pocket. _The steak got cold. Is it possible to reheat it?_

"Who did you just text?"

"Bridget," he answers.

"Bridget?" his mother questions.

"The waitress," Ben affirms.

She raises her eyebrows, "You have her number?"

Ben shrugs his shoulder, "I come here a lot." before his eyes drift down. "Or I did…" He hears the noise and looks back at the messages, "She'll be right here."

"And you would come here for the steak?" she asks.

"Yes," Ben confirms, before he sees the brunette come in and smiles. "Hey."

She smiles back, "You needed that reheated?"

Ben frowns for a moment, as he glances down at the steak, before he faces her again, "Um, yeah."

She takes it from the table, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"How about cookies?" he unsurely inquires.

"How many?" Bridget asks.

"Uh." He looks at his mother for a second before squinting his eyes back at her, "Three?"

Her smile widens, "Are you sure?" and then Ben nods. "Alright, then. I will be back."

"Nice girl," his mother comments, and then Ben frowns. "Do you like her?"

"You know I have a girlfriend," Ben bypasses.

"That doesn't mean you can't have feelings for another," she rebuttals.

Ben shakes his head, "Why would you think I like her?"

His mother makes a thoughtful expression, "She had brown hair, you two seem very social with each other, and… well, you smiled at her. You never smile."

Ben looks back for a second, "I don't?"

She shakes her head, "It's really something I wish I could see more of."

"Okay. Well," Ben lets out a breath. "It was bad enough when Father was trying to set me up with her, but you're even worse."

"How am I worse?" she laughs in disbelief.

Ben's frown deepens, and before he can figure out why it bothers him more he excuses, "Well, because you're a girl. You should know better."

"I'm a woman," his mother corrects. "The dictionary definition of a girl is a female child or a relatively young woman, neither of which I would consider myself young enough to claim."

Ben slightly smiles, "You look young enough."

It takes a moment for her to unsurely say, "Thank you." before she firmly continues. "But I stand by my point. I'm too old to be considered a mere girl."

Ben frowns as he slowly nods, "Yeah. I understand that." and before either of them can speak again the waitress comes back in and sets the steak in front of Ben before placing the macadamia nut cookies in the center next to the milk.

Bridget smiles, "Will that be it for now?"

"Yes," Ben confirms. "Thank you." He watches her leave the area, before he looks down at the steak and furrows his eyebrows, "What the hell?" His mother stays quiet. "Do you see this? The juice turned into skin." He pokes his fork at the white substance covering the plate and watches as the fork scrapes through it.

"I'm not sure if that would be the technical term," his mother comments.

"Are you kidding?" Ben raises his brows. "It looks like it could have been taken from a person." He lets out a long breath before facing her, "You can't make me eat this."

"I won't." Ben breathes in relief. "Because, all I need you to eat is the steak."

He offers an unsettled look, "I don't want to."

"Ben." She attempts to reason, "It's not human. It's a cow You can eat it." Ben frowns back down at the steak. "At the new minute you will take another piece." Ben pokes his fork into the next square in line and uses the knife to clean the white skin off of its sides, before the next minute starts and he places it into his mouth. There's not nearly as much juice now, and the taste is nowhere where it had been originally; however, it's still better than the overly bittersweet, cold meat. It's harder to tear with his teeth, the crispiness making it harder to shear, but they still manage to make it through and chew. He looks back at his watch. That's probably what the problem was before. His teeth were just too good at their job, but now that the meat is actually cooked they have a harder substance to bite through. It takes him longer than fifteen seconds to chew the meat down into swallowable bits, and when he finishes he just continues to stare at the watch. He presses the button until the screen shows the amount of calories he had burned while walking that day. "Ben," his mother quietly interrupts, and he faces her. "What are you doing?"

It takes him a moment to answer, "I was just curious."

Her eyes shift in thought, before she comments, "It's time for another piece." Ben stabs his fork into another one. "Make sure to tell me how it tastes when you've finished." The crispy parts taste burnt. He doesn't know in what way. He just knows it does, and he can't specify any further than that. He bites into it and feels a sense of irritation at the lack of juice it's offering him. He bites it again and again, but when he feels some liquid meet his tongue it's too little to know what it tastes like. The meat itself is, well, just meat. It's not smoked, it has no spices due to his request, and the meat is dry. It's just dry. That's all he can think about, before he finishes it and frowns up at his mother in irritation.

"It's dry," he merely says.

"And?" she prompts.

"Burnt," Ben answers with furrowed brows.

His mother nods, and it takes her a minute to comment, "Maybe now isn't the best time to dwell on it."

"So, I can stop, then?"

"I'm afraid not," she frowns. "I still need to know you've eaten enough, and I would like you to continue practicing mindfulness while you're at it."

"You just told me not to dwell on it," Ben disbelieves.

"There's other things you can focus on other than the taste," she explains. "Like how much it's actually helping your hunger, for instance." Ben thinks about it, and as he does he realizes that he's still super hungry, not starved but still really hungry. "It's important that you can listen to your body when it tells you if you're full or not. If you're full, there's no reason for you to continue eating."

Ben takes the opportunity and lies, "I'm full."

She's quiet for a moment, "Honey. I would like you to finish it." and he glances down; however, her voice completely defeats the purpose of moving his eyes away. "Please. Can you do this for me?"

Ben lets out a long breath, "Okay." before he picks up his fork and continues to eat.

* * *

After Ben finishes the steak his mother excuses herself to the restroom and he picks up a cookie. Had he the ability to use both hands right now, he'd probably be checking his phone for texts; however, even though he could probably use it to a degree, he's not about to risk trying with the recent increase in injury. He looks toward the archway. His mother still has no idea, and even though his father has done things enough to make it appear as nothing, this last time was not ordinary. He's going to have to tell her. He promised he'd tell her if his father ever did anything again, but it's been such a nice night even with her insufferable game. Does he want to ruin it like this? He's finally gotten her alone. Does he really want to mess that up by bringing his father up? It's then he realizes that it's because that they are alone now that he must tell her. If he doesn't, he may not get a very good chance for a while. That would be a while too long.

When his mother returns he waits for her to sit down, "May we discuss something?"

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, before he begins, "Father." and he meets her eyes. "Something happened."

"What do you mean, something happened?"

Ben notices her part smile and the near laugh in her tone. He hasn't even said anything yet, and she's already hoping it isn't true. "He came to the school," Ben slowly says, "and he— He—" Ben wets his lips and hesitates, "He broke the lock on the door and…" He feels his heart beat faster, before he meets her warm brown eyes, "He grabbed me."

"What do you mean, he grabbed you?" she frowns.

"My arms," Ben quietly answers, and he tries to keep his breath steady. "He grabbed my arms, and it made the shoulder worse."

"Honey." She makes a noise before questioning, "Are you sure he hurt you that bad?"

Ben stares at her for a minute. Somehow he's not impressed that she would completely disregard him like that, and that bad? What, if it wasn't that bad, does that make it worthy to completely ignore? "Do I need to bring you the x-ray I just had?"

"Ben." She shuts her eyes, "It's not that I don't believe you. It's just—" Her eyes widen, "Wait. How much does the doctor know about this?"

"Don't worry," Ben says as he tilts his head. "I only said part of the truth."

It takes a moment for her to respond, "Do you know what provoked him?"

"What?" Ben furrows his eyebrows.

"Your father gets mad sometimes," she explains, "but he's not senseless. Do you know what provoked him?"

He nearly laughs in disbelief as the tears intrude his eyes. He can't deny that it was his fault this time. The things he's done, even a normal father would get upset for. Ben looks down, "He said he was there because of what I told Fairy Godmother." before he faces her and takes a deep breath. "But that's not really what he complained about."

"Then what was he upset about?" she softly asks.

Ben wets his lips again and looks off, "That night." before he glances over her. "When I was admiring your hair." He pauses to meet her eyes, "He didn't like it."

She purses her lips and slightly nods, "I see."

"What are you thinking?"

She sighs, "I'm thinking of a lot of things." before she sits up straighter.

"Are you going to talk to him?" Ben unsurely questions.

"I'm not sure," she stresses. "Your father isn't an easy man to talk to, and there's a good chance he didn't even do this on purpose."

"But you could talk to him to convince him to get help," Ben counters. "After this, he has to at least be thinking about it. Maybe he just needs the permission to."

She evenly expresses, "Ben. You're well aware your father doesn't need permission to do anything. He's not that kind of person. If anything, asking him to seek help may cause him to stop thinking about it himself, just because he would then think it was never his own idea."

Ben looks down, "Of course. I understand."

"Look," she starts, and he meets her eyes again. "I've been the only good constant in your father's life. You understand?"

"Yes." Ben glances down, "I can."

"So, can you then understand why your father may have felt threatened?" she seriously questions, and all Ben can do is nod. "I don't agree with what he did," she makes sure he knows, "but at the same time he was probably just scared of losing me. And adding that to his lack of emotional control, he acted very poorly. I agree with you on that." Ben fails to speak, and after a long silence she continues. "I know I'm your mother and that it's not fair that your father can't seem to share time with me for you, like you've said before, but he really does need the support."

Ben looks up at her, trying not to cry as he whispers, "And I don't?"

She hesitates, "Honey. You've got plenty of people to support you."

"But I don't want them," he counters. "I want you."

"Ben," his mother slowly comments, "I want to be there for you. I do, but a large portion of my day does involve making sure he's doing his best to stay well and I'm afraid I can't always be there for you when you need me." She pauses, "I'm pained to say that if you want someone who can constantly support you and well, then you're better off with your friends or girlfriend."

Ben looks down, "I'm sorry. I know this must be hard for you too… after all, at least I can leave when I want to. You actually need a reason." She doesn't speak, and he looks back up at her. It's quiet for a long moment before he questions, "Can I hold your hand?"

She takes a second to inquire, "What's you're intention?"

"Just to tell you that I care about you and that I will be there for you," he quietly answers, before she nods and he reaches for her delicate hand on the table. He looks from it to her brown eyes, "This has been hard for both of us, but thinking about it you've had to deal with him longer than I've had too and you spend more time around him too. Maybe you're used to it or maybe it's tired you over the years, but in either case I want you to know that you are not alone. Even if you can't always be there for me, I want you to know that I will be there for you. I love you, and I would never leave you to deal with this alone."

After he finishes she takes her hand from him, "I love you too." but there's something off about her slight smile.

"I've made you uncomfortable," Ben realizes.

"No," his mother shuts her eyes and shakes her head, before she opens them to meet his again. "What you said was a little… poetic, but it's not just you, Ben. It's this entire situation. It's this place. It's going to a public place without your father. It's leaving the castle and attempting not to check my phone every two minutes." She hesitates, "Trust me. You did nothing wrong. This entire thing is just uncomfortable for me."

"Sorry," Ben whispers, and then he sees her kind smile.

"You don't need to apologize," she softly speaks. "I'm glad we could have this time together. It's not really something we've had."

Ben smiles back, "Yeah. I'm glad we could have this time together too."

* * *

\- Yeah. Can we just ignore the fact that Ben was using a knife and fork to cut his steak. I didn't realize how hard that would be with one hand until after I'd already finished the chapter and got halfway through editing (I do these two things hours apart for obvious reasons, by the way)... On a side note, has anyone else here ever microwaved steak juice before? It actually does turn into skin. Fascinating, right?... Annoying but fascinating.


	147. Luckiest Bastard on Earth

**Luckiest Bastard on Earth**

 **(Tuesday Night)**

"We are so good at this," Chad smiles. "This should be like a permanent thing."

"It's not, Chad," Ben slowly reminds him.

"Well, yeah," he laughs it off. "I just mean, it would be great if it could be." He leans forward to see Ben's expression, "Don't you think?"

"I think," Ben stares at the computer screen, "we need to get this finished."

"You know, I was actually thinking," Chad continues on, "that we should have dinner."

Ben gives him a look, "We just had dinner."

"No. I mean, like," he grins, "another night. Maybe with a movie before it or something."

"And why would we be doing that?"

"Come on." Chad excuses, "With everything you've been through lately, don't you think you deserve a night out?"

"I," Ben unsurely begins.

"Awesome," he interrupts. "Where's your phone?"

Ben's mouth gapes as he watches Chad take his phone, "Hey. I haven't said yes to anything yet."

"But you were going to," Chad smiles, before his eyebrows raise. "Woah. How long have you had this for?"

"What? The phone?" Ben asks in confusion.

"No, man. The photo." His laughs, "Is this your mother?"

Ben moves to see what Chad's looking at, and then he sighs at the sight of the background, "Right. Uh, I don't know. I found it on an old flash drive. I think it's from a birthday I had before… You know, before when my parents thought they could not teach me English and keep people away from me."

Chad furrows his brows at him, "That doesn't explain why you have a half-naked picture of your own mother set as your phone's background."

"She's in a bikini," Ben disputes.

"Just what I said," Chad proves his point. "Half-naked."

"Would you shut up?" Ben defends. "It's not like I'm jacking off to it."

"Does she know you have it?" he questions, and when Ben fails to respond Chad's smile widens. "She doesn't, does she?"

"Fuck off," Ben counters as he snatches his phone back from Chad, and he hurriedly swipes through it. "You're looking for my calendar, right?" He hands the phone back to him, "Here you go."

Chad looks at it, "Dude. Your schedule is like completely empty."

"It doesn't mean I'm not busy," he lets him know.

Chad thinks for a moment, "How about Tuesday this next week?"

Ben watches him place the event, and he answers in irritation, "Doesn't matter. You've already made up my mind."

He hands him back the phone, "Come on. It will be fun. Like this, but more."

Ben notices his grin, "You think this is fun?"

"Well, yeah," Chad laughs. "I mean, I get to do it with you."

It takes a minute for Ben to comment, "Right." with narrowed eyes, before he turns back to the screen. He sighs, "Only twenty-two more emails to read."

* * *

"Okay," Carlos irritably comments, "you've been smiling way too much."

"Really?" Chad questions.

"Yeah," he states. "Even for you. What's up?"

Chad's grin widens, "I got a date with Ben."

"You got a what?" Carlos disbelieves.

"It's on Tuesday, and we're going to go out to a movie and then have dinner."

"Wait. Hold on," Carlos lifts a hand. "I thought you said Ben didn't like guys."

"I said he had a girlfriend," he counters. "A girlfriend who is probably cheating on him, and he's been going through rough stuff, so—"

"So you thought you would use his suffering to your advantage," Carlos disapproves.

"No," Chad slowly says with a raised forefinger. "I just figured why not give it a shot?"

"I can think of one," he rebuttals. "Mal."

"Mm, no," Chad disagrees. "Mal could make me bald and light my palace on fire. Nothing's ruining this for me."

"You don't think that getting cursed to sleep for a hundred years and then wake up after Ben's dead is going to ruin your plans to be with him?"

Chad frowns, "Look. Mal still has nothing to worry about. Either Ben will like me or he won't. If he does, great. If not… well."

"So, he doesn't know this is a date, then?" Carlos realizes.

"He doesn't need to know," Chad answers. "It's what we're doing that's important."

"But isn't this date kind of going to suck," he questions, "if you can't even kiss him or hold his hand?"

Chad smiles, "So, I'm going to take him to a scary movie, and then he will have to lean on me for comfort."

Carlos takes a moment, "Ben doesn't strike me as the type of person to scare easily."

"Then I'm just going to have to make it a super scary movie," he solves. "As far as everything else goes, we'll just have to see where it goes."

Carlos shakes his head, before he faces him, "Chad. I cannot cover for you this time. When Mal asks me what's up with this, she's not even going to give me one second to answer."

"That doesn't seem fair," he says in a quieter voice.

Carlos's eyes shift, "I think she's just good with expressions, like knowing when people are guilty or scared and stuff." There's a brief pause. "I'm going to ask you— for your own safety— that you don't trespass a dragon fairy hybrid like this."

"I'm not worried about Mal," Chad decides. "She wants to be good, to prove to Ben that she's good? Then the last thing she's going to do is repeat her mother's hundred year curse."

"Mal is a very creative person," he warns. "She can punish you without getting caught."

"And if she does," Chad continues on, "then you can step up for me."

"Me?" Carlos's eyebrows raise.

"Yes, you," he firmly confirms. "You're the one saying Mal is going to do something bad if I do this."

"Yes, but I said that so you wouldn't do it," he urgently explains.

"Doesn't matter," Chad bypasses. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. No one—especially that villain's kid— is going to think they can just come here and take this from me. I'm going for it, whether you like it or not." Carlos fails to speak, and then Chad smiles again, "And you would not believe where Ben is taking me to dinner."

"Where?" Carlos unenthusiastically comments.

"Starlit Nights," he excites.

He shakes his head, "What's Starlit Nights?"

"Only thee best romantic restaurant in town," Chad grins. "Apparently it's like the only restaurant Ben's ever been to. Isn't that awesome?"

Carlos's mouth gapes, "You are the luckiest bastard on Earth." before he thinks. "Are you sure he doesn't know it's a date?"

"No," Chad confirms. "If he thought it was a date, then he would have complained more about how I was forcing him to go out."

It takes a minute for Carlos to respond, "So, who's paying for this?"

"Oh," Chad recalls. "I'm paying for the movie and he's paying for dinner."

"But you're the one that asked him out?" he makes sure.

"Yes."

"But you forced him into it?" Carlos's eyes narrow in unsureness.

It takes a moment for Chad to admit, "I'm a wuss at rejection. It's easier to just ask someone out and then say yes for them, and, like, not give them a chance to talk at all."

"And yet you're so great at consent."

Chad frowns, "Was that sarcasm?"

"No, um," Carlos hurriedly explains, "I just mean that you force people on dates, but you somehow are still good at getting consent for things… I guess, I'm just confused."

"Well, let me unconfuse you," Chad replies, before he hands Carlos thirty dollars.

Carlos smiles at him, "Luckiest bastard on Earth." before he takes the money. "How do you want me?"

"Let's actually try it on the bed this time," Chad suggests. "It took me forever to figure out how to get the stains out of the rug last time."

"Couldn't you just look that up?"

Chad's eyes shift, "I could have. I should have, but my first idea was to just ask on some ask website… I didn't really get the answers in the time I needed."

"So, what did you do?" Carlos asks.

"Nothing really," Chad informs. "Hayden saw it before I could, and he gave me the whole rundown of what to do. So…" He points, "The bed. I don't want to have to deal with that again." and with that Carlos turns around and walks over to it.

* * *

-Next Up: Mal steals money for alcohol, she talks to Ben, and Ben talks with his parents... You do know by now that whenever I say talk the characters do very little actual talking, right? The last time I said this Ben's father broke into his dorm... Feel free to leave any comments or predictions regarding the information given during the last chapters. Don't be shy... It's likely that you're in no way crazy for considering the possibilities. I hope you've enjoyed.


	148. I Said No

**I Said No**

 **(Wednesday Afternoon)**

When Evie opens the door she forces her smile from faltering, "Audrey?"

She hands her a sheet of paper, "These are my measurements. I'd like you to make me a dress for the spring fling."

"That's Saturday night," Evie concerns.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

Evie shakes her head, "Nope. Not at all."

"Great," Audrey quickly responds. "So, I'm thinking something green with gold touches. Oh! And make sure the fabric is hundred percent pure."

"Pure?" Evie unsurely comments.

"It should be on the label," Audrey informs. "Mixed fabrics tear easier."

"Got it," she tries to smile again.

"Three hundred, right?" Audrey asks as she digs into her purse.

"Yes," Evie holds onto the word, until she remembers that's indeed the price.

Audrey hands her a hundred and fifty dollars, "I'll give you half now so you can buy the fabric. I will hand over the rest once I've deemed you've met expectations."

She takes the money, "Okay."

"Oh, and just one more thing." Audrey points between her and the room, "You two weren't, like, planning to go together, were you?"

Evie turns around and sees Mal reading the spellbook on her bed, before she turns back to Audrey and slowly answers, "No?"

"Good." She makes a fake pained expression, "Because, as the president of student council, I'm afraid I have to tell you that two people of the same sex aren't allowed to go together. It's against the law, you know, for homosexuals to engage in provocative behavior, and as someone who helped plan this event, I could just never forgive myself if people used it as an excuse to do illegal activities." She smiles, "So, it's really good that you aren't going."

"No," Evie frowns. "I am."

"But you just said," she starts.

"That I wouldn't going with Mal," Evie finishes, before she raises her eyebrows, "Doug asked me. I'm going with him."

Audrey's eyes narrow, "Doug?"

"We're dating now," Evie smiles. "Didn't you hear?"

"No," she slowly counters.

Evie's smile widens, "Well, now you have, and if you will excuse me, I should get into the shower so that I can get to the store before it closes."

"What," Audrey raises an eyebrow, "you didn't shower this morning?"

She frowns as she glances down, "I woke up late."

Audrey looks over her, "I was wondering what that stench was."

Evie furrows her eyebrows, "I still used deodorant and everything."

"Whatever you say," she bypasses. "I have to go. You. You just take care of you, okay?" She smiles before leaving, and Evie can't help but watch her strut down the hall.

* * *

When Mal walks into the liquor store she walks up to the counter, and the brown haired man smiles, "Good afternoon."

"So," Mal lets out a long breath before leaning onto the counter. "Last time I forgot to mention this little problem I have with water."

"Water?" his eyes narrow in question.

"Yes. Water," she irritably confirms. "I need to know at what price I won't have to worry about getting sick again, so maybe you could tell me?"

"Well, everything has water in it," he thinks, "but if you mean only a small amount of it, then that would probably start at about fifty dollars."

Mal glances around, before she notices a shelf off to the side, takes a red wine from it, and heads back to the counter, "Here."

He rings it up, "That will be sixty dollars." Mal hands the money to him, takes the bottle, and heads for the door. "Have a good day."

* * *

When Doug opens to the door Mal asks, "Where's Ben?"

"Um," Doug's eyes moves toward inside the dorm.

"Good," Mal comments. "Now, let me in."

He shakes his head, "I can't do that."

"Oh. I think you can." She glows her eyes, "Let me in." and he steps back.

When she enters the room Doug steps in front of her, "You need to leave."

Mal pushes him to the side, and when he hits the wall his glasses fall from his face. Ben looks at Doug in shock, before he notices her stepping closer to him, "Mal."

She turns his chair towards her, "I think it's time we talk. Don't you?" before she moves one leg over to sit on his lap. "How are you going to get out of this now?"

Ben smells her breath, "You drank." and she smiles before kissing him.

He makes a noise before pushing on her shoulder, "Mal. We can't do this."

She wraps her arms around his neck, "We can't kiss. We can't hang out. We can't talk."

"Okay," Ben interrupts. "I get that, that I—" He sighs, "Can you get off me?"

"If I do that you'll leave," she stresses.

"No. I won't," he promises.

She runs her fingers through his hair before moving it down to his neck, "No. I think I'm going to stay right here."

Doug strides forward, "You heard him. Get off." but then Mal's head swiftly turns to him, her eyes a bright green.

"Go away," she smirks, and after he heads to the door Mal grins at Ben. "You're all mine, now."

"Mal." Ben whispers, "Please."

"You know," she interrupts. "I think I get what the real problem is here. I just haven't been giving you good enough of a reason to spend time with me."

He watches as she moves back, "What are you doing?" and then she reaches for his pants' button. Ben grabs her hand with widened eyes, "Mal!" She pulls his hand off of hers, and her fingers reach the button. "Mal." She leans in as the button becomes undone, and she kisses him. He tries to speak again, but then her tongue makes its way into his mouth and he finds himself unable to. He looks toward the door; however, even though it's wide open no one's bothered to enter, and when he hears the zipper his attention is brought back to her. He can't see what's going on and there's no mirrors around to help him, but he's still able to find her hand; however, then he feels her touch the boxers with her other. She moves back to see them, and Ben lets out a stressed breath as he takes her hand from it and attempts to cover the area with his own. "Mal. Stop."

She meets his eyes, "You're only saying that because you don't think I'm myself."

"You aren't," Ben yells, and he struggles to keep his hand in place as she uses both of hers to move it. "Mal," he whispers, and then she leans in to kiss him again. He feels her fingers maneuver around the button on the boxers, and his breathing shakes as the tears intrude his eyes.

"Mal," Evie shouts. She stops and looks over at her, and Ben takes the opportunity to zip his pants back up; however, the angle makes it hard to and it only goes up halfway. "What are you doing?"

Mal darts her eyes to Doug, "This all you have?" before she looks back to Evie. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting his attention."

"You're forcing his attention," Evie remarks before stepping forward. "Can you even see what you're doing? Get off of him."

"Why should I?" Mal widens her eyes.

"Because," Evie loudly counters, "you would've wanted Hook to."

Mal's mouth gapes at the shock of Evie's knowledge, before she reasons, "Ben's my boyfriend."

"And you were involved with him," Evie rebuttals. "That doesn't make it okay."

Mal glows her eyes, "Get out of here, and stay out."

Evie gasps, "I can't believe you just tried to hypnotize me."

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, "And it didn't work."

Evie takes another step forward, "Mal. Just look at Ben. He doesn't want this."

"Come on." Mal furrows her eyebrows, "What guy wouldn't want this?" before she places her hand on his shoulder and turns to him. "Deep down, you want this. Don't you?"

It takes a moment for him to answer, "Mal." and the pitch of his voice is higher than usual. "I told you to stop."

She notices the gleam in his eyes and huffs, "So, what then? You don't want me?"

Ben whispers, "No. I don't." and she stares at him for a minute. "Please. Stop."

Mal shakes her head before getting off of him, "Suit yourself." before she strides past the others and Evie calls after her as she hurries after her.

Doug shuts the door and locks it, before he walks into view of Ben, "Hey." He watches as he tries to wipe the tears from his face. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," Ben quietly responds, and then more tears fall. "I love her. I don't get it." He gulps, "Why would she…"

Doug watches Ben shake his head, before he lowers his eyes and notices the pants, "Did she unbutton those?" Ben glances down and then looks away, as he holds the two sides of the pants together. "Ben." He hesitates, "If we didn't come right now, how long would we have had until it got worse?"

Ben laughs through a pained grin, "Seconds."

"God." Ben turns his head down towards the table, but in his peripheral vision he can still see Doug come over to take a seat. "Ben. I think you should report this."

"Report?"

"Tell Fairy Godmother," Doug explains.

Ben shakes his head, "No. I can't do that."

"I know it's going to be hard to talk about it," Doug begins.

"No," Ben interrupts. "Mal got in trouble, because she tried to kiss Audrey. If I tell, I am making it more bad. I would hurt her."

"Ben," he tries to reason, "she almost hurt you." He sees more tears fall from Ben's face and corrects himself, "She did hurt you. You need to tell Fairy Godmother what she did."

He shakes his head, "No."

"Ben," Doug begins.

"I said no," Ben shouts at him, and Doug sees his pained expression. He continues in a softer tone, "I love Mal. I'm not doing this."

"Ben." He slightly shakes his head, "I'm just trying to help."

It takes a minute for him to retort, "You can help without having a big mouth." and he looks intensely into his eyes. "If you tell Fairy Godmother or anyone about this, I will never talk to you again."

"Okay. Look," Doug glances down, before he adjusts his glasses and faces him again. "I get it. You love Mal. You love your mother. But Ben, that does not mean you need to hurt yourself for them."

"No." Ben counters, "That is what it means." and he nods. "True love is putting someone else's need over your own wants."

"What about your needs?" Doug softly questions, and then Ben looks down. "What about when it's your needs against hers?"

Ben looks back up, "If Mal goes to— If she gets put in…" and then he wets his lips. "If I tell on Mal for this, she will die. Right now, her needs are more than mine."

* * *

\- **Danifan3000** If you have another review coming in, then maybe this is a little premature, but first off I completely forgot Aurora was raised by fairies. I only saw that movie once, and the only reason why I saw it in the first place was because I had a Disney coloring book and I wanted to be accurate with it... that was back in third grade I think... So, that's the real reason, but now onto my excuse. In the Descendants movie Queen Leah gets furious, saying how her daughter had to be raised by fairies because of Mal's mother. Now, that could just be her stressed about how she missed out on being a mother, which is the more likely option, or it could also be that she didn't want to leave her child in the care of magical creatures in the first place... It probably doesn't even matter. Just look at what happened: a fairy came and cursed Aurora during her Christening, the king and queen had their baby given to the trusted "good" fairies, and all three of those fairies somewhere didn't do their job well enough to keep Aurora safe. So, basically, the only reason they needed the three fairies' help in the first place was because of another fairy, and afterwards even the trusted fairies let them down... Aurora was raised by them, so maybe some members of the family still has sort of a relationship with the fairies (a factoid I completely missed was how Jane said Audrey was with Marryweather at the spa during the second movie)... however, it's just another one of those things that can be potentially contradictory but still okay. Maybe those three fairies are demons too, but... I'm completely confusing myself right now. I'm not good at rationalizing contradictory things. You're right. It's messed up that Audrey thinks fairies are demons if her mother was raised by fairies, but just because she's religious doesn't mean that she thinks they should be put to death or anything like that. She long as she feels like she's in God's light and knows the difference from right and wrong, then there's no reason for her to completely avoid a couple fairies her mother probably bonded with. She they whisper sin to her, she will know not to be led astray.

\- A **Guest** made a comment on ch. 88, asking if they were the only one who felt like Ben was driving a wedge between Mal and Evie. Maybe back then. I know at that time Evie and Ben were still getting used to each other and didn't have any or a lot of rules and expectations set. Now, however, I feel like they've been almost getting along better than either of them with Mal. As far as Mal's relationship with them goes, I'm not actually too sure how that's going. Well, terrible right now obviously. But, I just mean, everyone's going through a lot right now and that itself has impacted the relationships.

\- When I was writing this chapter all I could think was that if Ben was in the divergent series, then he'd probably be part of that sect that has the characteristic of selflessness. Now, of course, I'm actually going to want you to comment on the events of the chapter if you have anything to say, but as a little game I'd also like to know what people think of the characters as I wrote them. If you had to either put them in a sect of Divergent or a house from Harry Potter, then which characters do you feel like would go where and why?


	149. The Experience of a Lifetime

**The Experience of a Lifetime**

 **(Thursday Noon)**

"How's Ben?" Evie asks as she and Doug sit across from each other at the island counters with their smoothies.

Doug finishes the bite of his jelly sandwich, "Not good." before he readjusts his glasses. "Ben… He didn't like how Mal approached him last night."

"Well. Yeah," Evie frowns "I got that by how his eyes were open when she was kissing him." She hears Doug make a hopeless noise, "What is it?"

"Evie," he whispers, but before he can continue he sees a guy with black hair enter the kitchen.

Evie gives one glance, before she slightly shakes her head, "Doug. Just tell me. Please." Doug watches the student place a small pot onto the stove before going over to the second fridge. He takes out a jug of blood, goes to pour some into the pot, and then walks over to return it to the fridge. "Stop gawking," Evie hisses, and when the student's striking blue eyes meet his Doug swiftly looks back at his smoothie. The black ring around the iris in combination with the blood, that guy is likely a vampire. "Aren't you going to tell me?" Evie prompts.

"There's people around," Doug whispers.

"So?"

"So," Doug reasons, "he's going to be able to hear everything we say."

"So, why are you whispering?" Evie counters, and as Doug turns to look at the vampire, the guy's eyes meet his and a giant smile is apparent in his features.

"Would you stop staring at me?" Doug complains.

The guy stirs the substance in the pot as he comments, "I'm not staring. I looked at you when you looked at me. This is a two-way street. Stop if you want me to stop."

Doug looks back at Evie, "What were we talking about?"

"Hmm," she hums. "Nothing much. Just something important."

"Oh. Right," Doug recalls, and he looks back at the guy to make sure he's too busy to listen in; however, when their eyes meet again he shakes his head hard and shuts his eyes, silently kicking himself for getting his attention again.

"Doug," Evie says, and he lets out a stressed breath as he opens his eyes. "It's simple. Just mind your own business and he'll mind his."

"No," he uneasily comments. "I can't do that, not when there's a predator around."

"A predator?" Evie raises her eyebrows.

"Didn't you see the blood?" he furiously whispers.

"So?"

"So," he continues on, "scientifically speaking, I'm afraid of him."

Evie frowns, "I can think of a couple carnivores that you don't act like prey around."

"No," Doug nervously counters. "I do. They've complained about it."

"Which is just even more of a reason for you to stop," Evie continues. "These are people, no different than the rest of us."

"It's not my fault I'm lower on the food chain," Doug defends.

She offers an unimpressed look, "On the Isle things are simple: if you act like prey, then you will become prey." She shakes her head, "You just really need to learn to overcome this."

Doug glances over as the vampire pours the blood into a cup, and Evie looks just in time to see him pile some of the cookies she had previously made onto a plate and take a bite out of one of them. "Hey," she smiles, and he turns around. "How are those?"

When the guy looks at her in unsureness Doug excuses, "She's only asking because she made them."

He glances down at the cookies, before he smiles at her, "They're good, but I think they could use more chocolate."

"More chocolate?" she questions.

He hesitates, "Actually, maybe you shouldn't be asking me. I'm biased. Chocolate has protein and iron in it. I'm really not taking the sweetness into account."

"No," Evie comments. "I know a human who really loves chocolate. I'll make sure to add more next time."

"Too much chocolate isn't good for a person's health," Doug informs.

Evie gives him a look, "Is anything?" before she smiles back at the black haired guy. "Thank you."

He nods, "Have a great afternoon." Before he turns and starts to walk away.

"Wait," Doug stops him, and he turns around in question. Doug unsurely smiles before slowly asking, "Let's say someone knew a carnivore who was refusing to eat— hypothetically speaking— what would you suggest for them to do?"

The vampire evenly answers, "Find a different place to sleep." and when Doug's mouth gapes without response he continues to leave; however, it's then he spins back around and raises a finger, "You can tell King Ben his mind will be the first to go."

"What?" Doug whispers.

"When a carnivore can't get the nutrients they need," he explains, "they grow gradually weaker, but eventually there will be an adrenaline rush and when that happens it will be his body that's in charge, not his mind." He pauses in thought, "And when he does inevidently lose control it will be those closest to him who are at the most risk of getting hurt."

Doug shakes his head, "Ben would never want to hurt anyone."

"It doesn't matter what he wants," the vampire counters. "This is about evolution. If society wasn't set up the way it is, then he would be the predator nature intended him to be." He looks into Doug's eyes, "Trust me. It doesn't matter how civil people can behave. When it comes to our survival we do what's necessary, we do things we never thought we would, and when it comes to carnivores… even the core of our personality can't save us from what we are." Doug doesn't speak. "The psychological turmoil will be great. I hope the king gets the help he needs."

After he leaves the kitchen Evie comments, "He's wrong. On the Isle Mal faced terrible hunger, and she never hurt anyone because of it."

It takes a moment for Doug to comment, "But Mal was probably used to it, and she's so… She's the type who could deal with that." He looks into Evie's eyes, "Ben's family has always eaten a lot of meat, and he…" He shakes his head, "Ben is really bad at saying no to himself." and then his eyes shift. "And just about everything, really." Evie doesn't say anything, and they sit quietly before Doug informs, "Mal was trying to do more than just kiss him." Evie faces him in interest. "His pants were undone by the time we got there. If we'd been any later…"

"Ben's stronger than Mal," she thinks up. "He could have pushed her off if he really needed to."

Doug frowns, "He only has one hand, Evie." before he shakes his head. "And even if he could have used both of his hands…" He meets her eyes, "Ben would never want to hurt her."

"But if she went any farther," Evie conjures up, "then she'd have had to get off him in order to get into a lower position."

"Unless her objection was actually a hand job," Doug softly counters, "in which case she could have just continued to sit there and… you know."

Evie sighs, "It's bad that she did that." before she continues in defense. "But he's been completely freezing her out, she's been missing him, and— And she was drunk."

It takes a minute for Doug to comment, "Well, she shouldn't have done it. Now I don't know how long it will take for Ben to talk to her, even after he gets better." He sees Evie nod with a frown. "He still loves her, though." She looks at him. "Ben really loves Mal, and I think you should make sure she knows that. It will be devastating for both of them if this causes them to break up."

Evie glances down, "And to think this all started by Ben falling down some stairs." before she faces Doug again. "I'll make sure she knows, and… I'll try to keep her from him."

Doug slightly nods, "Thank you."

* * *

"Mal." Evie stands up from the sewing machine when Mal enters the room, "I need to talk to you."

Mal turns towards her, "What about?"

Evie huffs, "How about the money you stole from me?" as she steps forward and crosses her arms, noticing Mal roll her eyes. "A hundred dollars."

She sighs, "Look. I was going to pay it back."

"How?" Evie sternly questions. "Just tell me. How?"

Mal slowly shakes her head, "I'll figure it out."

Evie steps forward, "Mal. This is not the Isle. We can't just figure stuff out."

"Hell we can't," Mal counters. "I do it all the time."

"Right," she sarcastically comments. "Because molesting Ben was such a good solution to get more time with him."

"He didn't say no," Mal counters. "How was I supposed to know?"

"He told you to stop," Evie disbelieves.

"Yeah," Mal pointedly states. "And right afterwards he admitted he only said it because he thought I wasn't myself."

Evie takes a minute, "So, getting drunk and assaulting people is who you are now?"

Mal narrows her eyes, "That's not what I said."

"No." Evie counters, "You said that pushing yourself onto Ben is who you really are."

"Come on," she defends. "What kind of guy doesn't like a girl going down on him?"

Evie frowns, "I'm not even going to answer that."

Mal looks Evie up and down before walking towards her, "Come on, Eves. It was just an honest mistake." and when Mal moves Evie's hair behind her ear Evie looks off. "I care about Ben. I wouldn't want to hurt him." She places her hand to Evie's cheek, "And you know I'd never want to hurt you."

"Mal," Evie whispers. "Ben still loves you, even after what happened."

"And I'm glad he does," Mal bypasses, before she places her other hand on Evie's shoulder, "And I am so glad to have you."

When she leans forward Evie responds even quieter, "Mal."

"I'm going to get you that money back," Mal whispers back. "I promise." She moves in to kiss her, and when their lips part Mal asks, "You believe me, don't you?"

"I don't know," Evie tears up.

"Hey," Mal hurries to wipe the tears from her face. "I love you. And I'm going to pay you back. I promise."

"You love me?" Evie hopes.

Mal smiles, "You know I do." before she moves her back towards the bed. "And I would just like to thank you for putting up with me."

When Evie backs onto the bed she comments, "Ben has rules." before Mal moves over her. "We're only supposed to be doing this for heat."

"And you've been terrible at giving me heat lately," Mal smiles as she takes her shirt off and tosses it to the floor. "But I feel like if we remove something else, then maybe there will be less of an issue." Mal takes off her bra, and Evie's mouth gapes as she can't help but stare. "Your turn, now." Evie sits up and starts to remove her own clothes, and when the bra is removed Mal guides her back down to the bed. She moves down to the bottom of her stomach and kisses her way up to Evie's breasts, and Evie leans her head back and lets out a breath as she feels the new sensation. Mal makes it up to her ear and whispers, "You know, you are wearing a skirt. Theoretically, if we took your tights off, we would still be following Ben's pants rule." Evie's eyes shift as she begins to frown. "I could give you a real thank you."

"Mal," Evie whispers back. "I'm not doing that to Ben."

Mal raises her eyebrows, "Suit yourself." before she comes back into view. "We'll just have to do the best with what we have."

Evie frowns as she remembers what Ben had said, "You're not drunk, are you?"

"Not now," Mal's eyebrows furrow.

"And you're not like doing this because you're emotional, are you?"

Mal gives a look, "You've been talking to Ben."

"I just don't want to use you," Evie worries.

"Trust me." Mal unenthusiastically comments, "I'm fine." before she smiles again. "Now. Let me give you the experience of a lifetime."

Evie slightly nods as she musters up the courage, "Okay."


	150. Here for You

**Here for You**

 **(Friday Noon)**

When Audrey and Chad walk up to Mal's table he points to the poster, "So, why would people pay for a character?"

Mal frowns at them, "Caricature. It's a cartoon version of yourself." before she slightly smiles. "Only five dollars. I'm sure you have that type of change lying around."

"I'll entertain you," Audrey counters. "Can you do one of us?"

Mal's smile widens, "The five dollars is per person. Do you have ten dollars?"

Audrey gives her a look, "That's not what your poster says."

"No. Of course, it does," Mal lies. "It's just in invisible ink."

"You're conning us," Chad realizes.

"Do you want to see how bad my art sucks or not," Mal counters.

Audrey whispers, "Fiend." in disdain, before she hands Mal the ten dollars.

It takes Mal a minute to sketch out the drawing, and her friends watch as she does so before it finishes and she hands it to Chad. He makes a face, "Why's my head so big?"

Mal smiles again, "It symbolizes your big ego."

When he hands the drawing to Audrey she gasps, "My nose does not look like this."

"It will if you can't learn to mind your own business," Mal counters.

She furrows her eyebrows, "Is that a threat?"

Mal shakes her head, "Why would I waste my time on you?" before she points the pencil at her. "It's a cartoon. Don't take it too seriously" Mal darts her eyes between the two, as neither speak. "You can scram now."

Audrey huffs, "And you say I'm wasting your time." before she turns around to strut off. Chad stands still, staring at Mal for a moment, before Audrey calls after him and he hurries off.

* * *

"You know, I've been trying really hard to get you to laugh," Chad comments as he and Ben sits in the library.

"I know," Ben mumbles. "I'm sorry. Thing have just been…"

After a long silence Chad questions, "Been what?" and then Ben just gives a questioning look. "You didn't finish your sentence."

Ben keeps quiet as he returns to his homework, but after staring at the page for a moment he says, "I didn't feel like it."

Chad shuts the textbook and is more than surprised when Ben doesn't complain, before he slides it away and turns toward him, "What's going on?" Ben doesn't speak, merely staring down where the textbook had been. "It's okay. You can tell me."

"You'll tell other people," Ben quietly counters.

"No. I won't." He places a hand on his shoulder, and Ben faces him. "Not if you really don't want me to."

Ben glances down, "It's Mal." and then Chad's hand fall back to his side. "She… I don't even know where to start." Ben sees Chad looking at him attentively, waiting for him to talk. He cares that he's not happy. He actually does. Somehow, Ben had always thought Chad as too social or outgoing to be capable of that type of empathy. "Apparently Mal… She has of history of alcohol problems, and I don't really know when she started up again, but… I can't help but feel I had a part in it somehow, and she's really different now, but… maybe that's just more of me not having been there for her."

"You know, it's really not your fault," Chad informs.

"She was okay before she met me," Ben denies. "Sure. Maybe I got them all to a safer place, but… You know how much stress I must have been putting on her for her to feel the need to go back to drinking?"

Chad faces Ben and waits for him to meet his eyes, before he firmly comments, "Her drinking isn't your fault. Maybe she's using you or whatever stress as an excuse to, but you have to believe this isn't because of you."

"It's just," Ben sadly laughs, "you know, I just can't help but think." His eyes shift, "Maybe it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me. If I'd been there for her…"

"Ben," Chad tries to reason. "Her addiction isn't your fault."

"No," Ben shuts his eyes and gulps. "Not that." The tears makes their way through his eyelids, and he wipes them away as they reach the surface, "Something else happened."

Chad's frown deepens, "What happened?"

Ben opens his eyes and wets his lips, "She just really wanted to see me, so… she hypnotized Doug to let her into the room." He gulps again, "And, uh, when he tried to get her to leave she made him leave, and she walked over, and she sat on my lap and then was kissing me, and—" He shakily breathes, "I couldn't get her to stop." He meets Chad's blue eyes, "I told her to stop, but she didn't stop." and he can see the shimmering tears in his eyes. Ben painfully grins, "She just really wanted to see me." before he looks off in thought. "And maybe, if I'd shown the least bit of affection towards her these past few weeks." He lets out a long breath, "This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me."

"Ben," Chad softly reminds him, "if you told her to stop and she continued to kiss you, then even that can be considered assault."

"If Mal goes to prison," Ben hurriedly states, "she will die. You can't tell anyone."

"So, no one else knows?" he slowly asks.

"Just Doug and Evie," Ben supplies, and then Chad looks down in thought. "You can't tell anyone. If she dies, it will be my fault. I couldn't live with myself if that happened."

Chad swiftly faces him, "You don't need to worry about that." before he takes his hand. "I promise I won't tell anyone. You're going to be okay."

"That includes Audrey," Ben lets him know.

Chad nods, "I know." and after another moment of quiet he says it again. "You're going to be okay." He looks down as Ben squeezes his hand, and he starts to smile; however, it immediately slips. This is not how he wanted to get him, and when he looks back up at him he questions, "Did Mal even say sorry?"

Ben's quiet for a moment, "She's not herself right now." and after a few more seconds his eyes shift. "Thank you. I didn't expect or think… You listened well."

Chad slightly nods, "I'm just glad I could be here for you."


	151. Spring Fling

**Spring Fling**

 **(Saturday Night)**

"The first song is a waltz?" Evie questions.

"The first hour of the dance will be more traditional," Doug explains. "Things get a little crazier after that." He adjusts his glasses, "It might just be for those people who imagine the perfect romantic night, who will then leave to get time alone."

"By time alone, do you mean?" Evie begins.

"Oh. No," Doug quickly corrects. "I just mean that, like in the movies and stuff, they usually find somewhere quiet to talk."

Evie nods before she swiftly turns towards him, and her sparking, purple dress twirls with her as she offers him her hand, "Would you like to have this dance?"

"Oh, uh." He nervously grins in unsureness, "I don't really dance."

"Oh, come on," Evie pulls him towards the dancing area. "I'll teach you."

"Oh. Um." She holds one of his hands into the air, places his other on her waist, and puts her other onto his shoulder. "Okay."

* * *

"Come on," Chad complains. "What's the holdup?"

The grey haired pharmacist steps towards the counter, "I'm sorry, Prince Chad, but you just got your refill here two weeks ago, and I've talked to the manager." Chad watches as he sets the empty bottle onto the counter in front of him. "You're going to have to wait."

Chad sniffles before leaning his hand on the counter and lifting his other hand, "Look. The bottle fell near the sink." He grins and slightly shakes his head, "All I need you to do is replace the amount I lost." before he slides the orange bottle towards him.

The pharmacist's blue eyes meet his, "I'm sorry, Prince Chad. It's policy. We have to follow the prescription, and we cannot give out pills individually."

"I have stuff I need to do," Chad complains. "How am I supposed to do anything with this pain in my ankle? How am I supposed to attend the dance with my girlfriend right now and be a good boyfriend if I'm in pain the entire time?"

"Pain is a sign you shouldn't be putting more stress on it," the man comments.

"I know that," Chad shouts, before he pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep breath, and move his eyes up towards the pharmacist's. "Just tell me what I need to do to get my refill."

"You can wait another two weeks," he concludes.

Chad lets out a long breath before glancing around the store, and after he takes out his leather wallet he slides a hundred dollar bill towards him, "Just give them to me now."

The thin man observes him for a moment, "Is this supposed to be some kind of test?"

"Does it look like I'm testing you?" Chad furiously whispers. "Just give me the damn pills already." He hears his phone go off again, and he presses the red button before slamming it onto the counter and sternly meeting the pharmacist's eyes, "Please."

He takes a minute, "Who did you say your doctor was again?"

"Dr. Hoffman," Chad hurries, "of Charmington." He lists characters of the phone number, "You can just call him. He'll approve this."

The man finds a notepad and pen, "What did you say that number was again?" and after Chad relists it he nods. "This will be a minute." Chad watches as the guy goes into the backroom and shuts the door, and as soon as he knows it his phone rings again.

He stares at it for a moment before hurrying to answer, "Hey, Audrey. What's up?" as he turns to lean back on the counter.

"What's up?" she yells, and Chad cringes at the loud noise. "You're not here. That's what's up."

"Look," Chad bides time. "I can explain."

"Are you with Ben?" she accuses.

"Uh," he unsurely answers. "No."

"Are you sure?" she counters. "Because, he's not here either."

"Look. I don't know where Ben is."

"Then where are you?" she insists.

He swears he can hear the tears in her tone, "Where am I? I'm…" He looks forward and notices the packages at the end of the isle. "I'm getting cough drops."

"You're not sick," Audrey counters, and Chad can't tell if she's asking if he is or if she thinks he's lying.

"My throat's just a little sore," he excuses. "You know, probably from talking way too much like always. You know how I am."

It takes her a minute to answer, "I guess."

"I'll be back soon. I promise."

"I really needed you here now," she sadly voices.

Chad hears the door and turns back around, "Soon. I promise." before he hangs up and faces the pharmacist.

"So," the man slowly says, "your doctor vouched for you." He picks up the bottle, "I'll get this to you in a moment." before he slides the cash towards himself. "I'm taking the hundred."

"Yeah," Chad agrees with furrowed brows. "Of course."

* * *

When Evie stops in her steps Doug asks, "Evie?"

She places a hand to her head, "I feel a little… dizzy."

He nods, "Come on. Let's sit down." before he guides her to the bench of the buffet table.

When they sit down she whispers, "I'm sorry."

"What about?"

She's quiet for a moment, staring down at her painted nails, "You did this for me, and I can't even pretend to be a good girlfriend for you." She faces him, "I wanted to make this a good night for you." and he can see the gleam in her eyes, as the light shines off of the tears. "But if I can't dance or eat—" She shakes her head, "What are we even doing here?"

"We're here," Doug slowly states, "so that people will stop harassing you." He takes her hand, "And believe me, you've already made my night. Normally with these things I'm sidelined." He smiles, "Audrey really hated it when I had to tell her I couldn't participate in the band this year." and then Evie slightly laughs; however, she quickly frowns again.

"Are you sure you're fine with all this?" Evie's eyebrows furrow in question. "I mean, I know you would like this to be more, and it must be hard for you to do this."

Doug takes a moment, "The only hard part is going to be that very public kiss we're going to have to do at some point tonight."

"You get stage fright," she remembers.

"You might have to do most of the work," he smiles.

She smiles back, "I think I'll be okay with that."

"Hey," Jay voices, and Evie turns around. "Do you know where Mal is?"

"I think I saw her out is the hall selling drawings," Doug points his thumb to the door.

"Okay," Jay nods. "That's good. It'll keep her busy."

Evie faces the blond, "What are you staring at?"

"Your collar bones," Ruby disbelieves. "They could poke an eye out."

She shuts her eyes and covers one side with her hand, before she whispers, "I knew I should have worn a wrap."

"You liar," a yell is heard, and the group turns just in time to see Audrey hit Chad with her phone. She shakes her head as some tears fall, and Ruby excuses herself, "Sorry. I have to do damage control." before she kisses Jay. "I'll be back."

After she leaves Evie comments, "What's up with her?"

"Well, Chad can be confusing to some people," Doug mentions.

Evie shakes her head, "No. Not that." before she faces Jay. "Is she like your date?"

"We've hooked up a few times," Jay excuses. "She was free. I was free. So…"

"Does Carlos know?" Evie raises her eyebrows.

Jay looks off, "He doesn't need to know." and then Evie gives a look. "What? If I tell him he's just going to spaz out about it. I don't want to tell him if I don't need to."

Doug looks up at him, "I know you're not out or anything, but isn't this a little mean, stringing these people along like this?"

"I'm not stringing anyone along," Jay frowns. "I'm pretty sure I've made things very clear. It's really not that big of a deal."

"If it's not a big deal," Evie counters, "then why can't Carlos know?"

"Because," Jay defends. "He always gets so childish with this kind of thing."

"Isn't he like fourteen?" Doug inputs. "What did you expect?"

"Look," Jay reasons. "Back when the whole thing with Carlos started, I told him it wasn't actually going to be a thing. He said he was fine with it. He insisted he was fine with it. Now. If he lied, that's on him."

There's a brief silent before Doug opens his mouth to speak; however, it's then Ruby comes over, "They're going to hash it out outside." before she smiles and places a hand on Jay's shoulder. "Dance with me."

After they move over to the dance area Doug questions, "Are you going to tell Carlos?"

Evie shakes her head, "Why stir the pot when nothing's heating."

* * *

"You didn't even buy the cough drops," Audrey voices. "You lied to me."

Chad nods for a moment, "You're right. I did."

"Then where were you?" she tears up again.

He eyes up, "Ben."

"You said you weren't with him."

"No," Chad urgently says, before he turns Audrey around and points, "It's Ben."

She looks up at the roof, "Oh, God."

"I have to get him," Chad says as he runs off, and Audrey paces after him.

When Chad opens the door to the tower's roof Ben looks over his shoulder, but then the next moment he looks forward again. Chad takes a step, "Ben. What are you doing?" Audrey hears the French words, and when she makes it to the door she can hear Ben's response. She feels chills run over her skin, his voice seeming completely void of emotion. "Can I look too?" Chad questions, and when Ben finally nods he goes over to the wall; however, Ben stands on the rectangular pillar of that wall, and when Chad looks up he knows he would never be able to reach for Ben's hand without risking him to fall.

"I have to see that statue every day," Ben notes as he sees the back of his father's frame. "He's such a great man, isn't he? He's ended wars. He stopped witches and magic users from being put on the pyre. He united an entire continent." Chad doesn't speak, and Ben's eyes lower to the ground under him. "If I fell, this time there would be no lies. It would just be me, this building, and the knowledge that no one could have accidently fallen. And I'd have peace. This Hell could end, and I'd feel no more pain."

"What kind of pain?" Chad asks.

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "Every kind. It would all end."

"But you don't believe in an afterlife," Chad counters, feeling a pang in his chest. He can't lose him. He just got him.

"I never said that," Ben softly informs. "I just don't believe in God… Honestly, I hope I don't become a ghost. I just want the nothingness. This life's been too hard for too long."

"Ben," he tears up. "You might think your life's been hell, but believe me when I say the real Hell is a lot worse."

Ben remembers, "All Hell really is is the separation from God. And if that's the case, then Hell would be more peaceful, I think… I wouldn't have to hear Him say how much He hates me for just being born."

"Ben. You're not making any sense," Chad stresses. "If you don't make it to Heaven, then you will never be reunited with your loved ones." He thinks, "You would never see your mother again. Ever."

"My mother doesn't want me."

"No. Of course, she does," Chad loudly counters. "I have her number. I can call her right now, and you will know that she does."

"No," Ben firmly rejects, before he quiets. "She will be better off without me. I make her life so much harder."

"You can't do this," Chad insists.

Ben swiftly looks at him, "You want to bet?" and then Chad shakes his head. Ben laughs as the tears intrude his eyes, "I'm sick. I'll probably die anyway." before he looks back at the school grounds. "So, why not just do it now?"

"What do you mean, you're sick?" Chad asks in confusion.

Ben's silent for a long minute, "It doesn't matter." before he nods. "If I do this, everything will be better for everyone."

"What about the country?" Chad rejects.

Ben looks back at him, "They'll have you."

"What?" he whispers.

"I'm giving the crown to you," he states. "There's a notebook back in the dorm. In it I've listed what I want if I should die. Look at today's date, and you will see I've given you the crown. It's in my handwriting. People will know it's what I wanted."

Chad shakes his head, "No, Ben. I can't run a country."

"You're passionate about your people," Ben disagrees. "You've been taking three languages so that you can understand the citizens of your kingdom. You've been taking health classes and economics, and you have ideas. We worked well together, remember?"

"But I had you," Chad breathes, and the tears fall from his eyes.

"Chad," Ben continues to frown. "This is what you've always wanted."

"I don't want the stupid crown," Chad makes a pained expression. "Not like this. I want you. I need you to be here with me."

It takes a moment for Ben to say, "You'll get used to things without me." before he turns back around and takes a step off of the grey stone; however, the next thing he knows his feet are back on the ground, and when he looks up Mal is in front of him.

"So, what?" she disbelieves. "I can't kill myself, but you can." Her eyebrows raise, and she shakes her head, "How is that fair?"

"How did you get here?" Ben asks in confusion.

"How do you think?" Mal irritably responds. "Audrey got me."

"You can freeze time," he thinks aloud.

She rolls her eyes, "Not really." before she takes a step forward.

Ben back off, "Stay away."

Mal narrows her eyes before shaking her head, "You know, what? Jump if you want to. I really don't care." before she turns around and strides off.

Audrey intrudes, "She didn't mean that." but Ben doesn't respond, merely turning back around and walking up to the wall.

Chad places his hands on his shoulders and forces him to stop, "Please, Ben. Don't do this." and he hears Ben sigh before he wraps his arms around him. "Please. You can't leave. I need you to stay here with me."

Ben hears the crying, and he slowly places his hand on Chad's back, "Okay." before he glances at Audrey in unsureness. "I won't leave."

* * *

"Okay." Audrey addresses, "I need to know what's up with you and Ben."

Chad slowly shakes his head, "I don't know—"

"Are you seriously going to lie to me again?" Audrey disbelieves. "How is it that you can't even bother to show up to our date on time, but you can hug him for like a full minute?"

His mouth gapes, "He was going to kill himself, Audrey, and we've known each other for forever. I've helped him through a lot of crap. We've helped each other through crap. How else was I supposed to respond when it was his life on the line?"

It takes a moment for Audrey to comment, "You're right. This was special circumstances." before she nods. "I forgive you."

"Forgive me?" Chad's eyebrows furrow. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"You embraced someone else," she counters, "and a guy, no less."

Chad's frown deepens, "I can't deal with this right now." before he turns around to leave the room. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait," Audrey urgently says, and then he turns to face her. "You never told me. You said you weren't really getting cough drops, so where were you?"

Chad glances down before tilting his head and meeting her eyes, "I was out satisfying my drug addiction."

"What?" she quietly questions.

It takes a moment for Chad to say, "You heard me." before he turns around and leaves.


	152. Starved

**Starved**

 **(Sunday Evening)**

After Ben sits down and lines up the sodas his mother questions, "Honey. Is three cans really necessary?"

Ben doesn't respond, merely opening the first one, but then his father comments, "Ben. Your mother asked a question. Answer her."

Ben frowns up at her, "Yes." before he takes another drink and picks up his fork.

His mother watches as he pushes the potatoes around, "You seem quiet." and when he fails to comment she continues. "Is there something wrong?" He stops moving the white blob, but he still doesn't speak. "You know, you can tell us anything."

No. Ben is absolutely certain he can't, but after a glance at his seemingly calm father Ben faces his mother. He opens his mouth, but it takes a moment for the words to come out, "It's Mal."

"What happened?" she inquires.

Ben's eyes shift. What happened? He recalls how she'd touched him and how helpless he'd been, before he wets his lips, "She's been drinking."

His mother sighs as his father remarks, "I knew that girl would be trouble." and Ben's unable to find the energy to defend her. He continues on, "I think she needs help, but I've been having a hard time talking to her. So…"

"I can talk to her if you'd like," she offers.

Ben slightly nods, "That would be nice." but after a minute of staring down at his plate he just looks up again. "I'm really tired. Can I stay here tonight?"

His mother smiles, "You live here, don't you?" but when he fails to smile she frowns again. "Yes. You may." She nods to his plate, "Now. Go on, eat."

Ben slowly shakes his head, "I'm too tired."

Tears begin to fill her eyes, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

He intakes her sweet scent, "No." before he faces her. "I'm good." His mother lets out a couple shaky breathes as the tears start to flow, and she attempts to cover her mouth as Ben hears the sound of her cry. It's unsettling to see her this way, "Mother. It's okay. I'm fine." but his reassurance only seems to make her sob louder.

His father leans in to comfort her, wrapping an arm around her, before he turns his attention to Ben, "Eat something."

She shakes her head, "No." and Ben can see her pained expression as she looks at him. "You're excused."

Ben stays seated, a gaped frown in his features as he quietly comments, "Mom."

"You heard her," his father defends, before he nods up. "You're excused."

Ben faces his mother once again, before he quietly stands from his seat and steps toward the hallway. He stops at his door and listens in, as his mother whispers, "He's only had one piece of meat this month, and now he's too tired to eat anything at all?" He hears his father attempt to hush her. "He's going to die, isn't he? He's starving himself to death, and there's nothing I can do about it." His father attempts to sooth her into silence again, and Ben's eyes shift toward the floor. His father didn't say he would be okay. He didn't say it was temporary, that he was just being childish, or that there'd be a way to make this okay. He hushed her, because he couldn't find a way to disagree with her. Ben looks up at the door next to him and quietly opens it, before he enters his room and then carefully shuts it. He doesn't bother to turn on any lights as he makes his way to his bed, and he lays down on the soft surface before covering up with the sheet.

He stares up at the ceiling as he watches the sunlight drift down and the shadows cast above, and as it gets darker his eyes shift. He stands from the bed and walks down the dark hallways, before he crosses the dining room and enters the kitchen. He walks straight to the fridge and opens it, before he finds the leftover gravy. He opens the red top of the plastic container, before he brings a corner to his mouth and downs the liquid. He feels his stomach rumble, before he licks the container clean and finds the turkey. He struggles to get the cap off of the large bowl, but when he finally does he sets it aside and digs his hand into it. He shoves a mouthful of it into his mouth and then recalls the dryness, before he finds the soda and pulls the remaining case out. He gets the turkey down with the soda, and as soon as he knows it the entire bowl is emptied; however, it's then he feels the stabbing pain and holds his hand hard against his abdomen.

Ben takes a deep breath before scouring the fridge for more meat, and he can feel his saliva act up as he sees it. He takes the container of thawed steak out and places it onto the counter, before he rips the plastic off. He doesn't even care that it's not warm. The intense bittersweet taste is welcomed this time, and his teeth tears through it easily. Ben tastes the blood in his mouth and sucks on the wound of his cheek, before he turns onto his side and shuts his eyes to sleep.

* * *

When Ben wakes up the next morning he groans at the light flooding in through the windows, and he squints as he checks his watch. His eyes widen in panic, before he pulls the sheet off from him and stands from the bed. He hurries to use the bathroom, before he rushes out his bedroom door; however, when he gets to the stairs he hears the voices. He halts, and the next moment his mother calls, "Ben?" He glances down the stairs, but when he hears her voice again he looks forward and steps down the remainder of the hall.

When he makes it to the edge of the dining room he sees Dr. Roberts smile, "Good morning, Ben. Would you like to take a seat?"

"I have school," he unsurely responds.

"You don't need to worry about that," his mother informs. "I called them after you slept through your second class."

Ben's mouth slightly gapes, "But I'm not sick." His parents eye each other, and none of them say a word.

It takes minute for the grey haired doctor to ask again, "Would you like to take a seat?" and Ben looks at his feet as he steps in place. If he walks in there he's going to get in trouble.

"Honey," his mother softly addresses, and he looks up at her. "Come here, please."

Ben takes a final look back at the stairs, before he steps forward into the dining room and finds a seat several chairs away from both his mother and his doctor. The doctor comments, "You parents tell me you haven't been eating."

"I eat," Ben monotones, before his eyes shift away from him.

"Just not meat," he adds on, and Ben remains silent, unwilling to face any of them. "Can you tell us why you've stopped?" Ben peeks up at his parents. If he said why, they'd just tell him how unreasonable he's being again. He shakes his head, and Dr. Roberts frowns with a nod, "Ben. You're a smart kid. Do you know what the rule of threes is?"

"Uh, yeah," he vaguely recalls. "I learned in back in Life Science, I think… Something about how someone can only live about three minutes without air, three days without water, and…" He faces him, "Where are you going with this, exactly?"

The blue eyed doctor answers, "I've been told you've only eaten once this month." and Ben looks down. "Most people can only go about a month without eating," the doctor informs. "It varies based on stored body fat and the overall health of the individual." Ben meets his eyes but doesn't say anything. "Prolonged starvation can cause permanent organ damage." He still fails to speak, "Ben. If you continue on like this, your heart will give out and you will die."

Ben slowly shakes his head, "And?"

The doctor sees Belle's horrified reaction and informs, "Malnutrition can also affect the brain. That's why depressive disorders are often comorbid with anorexia."

"I'm not anorexic," Ben quietly defends.

Dr. Roberts turns back to him, "I'm not here to diagnosis you with anything. You would need someone from psychiatry to do that for you."

"I'm ill enough," Ben counters. "I don't want to be diagnosed with anything else."

"Just because you don't get diagnosed that does not mean it won't still be an issue," the doctor warns, and then Ben looks down in silence. "But we're not here for that. We're here, because your parents care about you and they wanted you to hear it from a professional."

He faces him again, "Hear what?"

Dr. Roberts hesitates, "Ben. You've already gone on like this for a month. If you continue like this you will die, and that will be sooner rather than later."

"How soon?" Ben inquires.

It takes him a moment to say, "No one has made it past a little more than three months." and then Ben nods.

He faces him again, "Okay. Can I leave now?"

"I'm afraid not," the doctor comments, before he slides a blender bottle in front of Ben.

"What's this? A protein shake?"

"I'm going to need you to drink it before you go anywhere," he instructs.

Ben pulls open the cap and takes a whiff, before he grimaces, "It smells like metal."

"It might be a little stale," the doctor informs, "but it should still have nutritional value for you."

Ben furrows his eyebrows at him as his mouth gapes in realization, "You're not seriously going to make me drink blood right now."

"I was told that the last time you ate you complained that the steak wouldn't have blood in it after it'd been reheated," he calmly comments.

"Meat juice," Ben firmly corrects with widened eyes. "If I wanted dry roast I could have just eaten here."

"The blood is from the butcher," he informs. "It should be very similar to what was in that steak of yours." Ben shakes his head. "It's just animal blood and chocolate protein powder, non-plant based. I highly suggest that you try it."

"And if I don't?" Ben counters.

It takes a moment for Dr. Roberts to respond, "If you don't drink that, then your parents have given me permission to find you a discreet psychiatrist."

Ben freezes, before he makes sure, "Psychiatrist, not psychologist?"

"Yes," he confirms.

Ben faces his mother, "You want me to be put on medication."

The doctor informs, "I could do it myself." and Ben swiftly turns back to him. "But I don't know why you're doing this and therefore I cannot know for sure what could help." Ben gulps as the tears intrude his eyes, and he lets out a long, quiet breath. "I know how much medicine you already take, so believe me when I say this is the last thing I want, but I'm afraid that if you refuse to drink this shake, then you will have left me with no choice."

"Son," his father voices, and Ben looks at him. "All of this trouble can be avoided if you simply drink it."

Ben stares down at the red bottle. Blood. It's blood. "I don't want to," he whispers.

"Honey," his mother whispers in return. "It's only one drink."

He looks up at her with tears in his eyes, "And you're letting this happen?"

It takes a moment for her to respond, "Dr. Roberts is right. It's nothing different than what you've had before." and Ben sadly laughs as he looks back down at it.

What if he likes it. Even with that horrible stench, what if he actually likes it. Surely, he would go out searching for more in any way he could. He shakes his head, "I don't know if I can do this."

"You can," his mother informs. "Just don't think about it." Ben's hand shakes as he lifts the large bottle up to his mouth, and the first thing he notices when the substance enters his mouth is the gloopyness. He separates the glop with his tongue before swallowing, but when he takes another drink what he notices is the taste. The chocolate has overridden the metallic taste, almost complimenting it, and he calms a bit as he finds it easier to chug it; however, he feels the tears come loose from his eyes. He wishes it had been worse, but it didn't taste completely terrible and when he makes it past a pint he knows it's true. His stomach isn't having a problem with it, and that can only mean one thing: he is anything but human, not even close to what he'd been raised to believe he was. He finishes it and clanks the bottle down onto the wooden table, before he rests his head in his arms and cries. "Honey," he hears his mother say, but his breathing is too unsteady to respond.

"Why is he crying?" Ben's father questions.

The doctor evenly answers, "Could be guilt. Could be stress."

"Honey," his mother says again. "What's wrong?"

When Ben fails to respond once again the doctor comments, "Remember. He's still only a teenager, a hybrid teenager may I add. Emotions will be high."

"He's never had emotional problems before," Belle disbelieves. "Not like this."

"Like I said before," Dr. Roberts states, "malnutrition can affect the brain, and he doesn't have the same energy he used to. That combination can make things harder."

"So, what do we do?" Adam questions.

The doctor sighs, "Try to keep him eating. Eventually, his mind should start functioning properly again."

"And if we can't get him to?" he counters.

Dr. Roberts takes a moment, "Then we may need to reconsider that psychiatrist."

* * *

\- Just to be clear in case you missed it, Ben never left his bed. He was daydreaming about eating all of that stuff. What actually happened was that the hunger made his teeth feel tense, he accidentally bit his cheek, and that's the blood he tasted. That's it. That's all that happened.

\- **Next Up** : Belle talks to Mal, Chad has his "date" with Ben, and Mal acts up.


	153. Some Space

**Some Space**

 **(Monday Noon)**

"So, you're not selling in the cafeteria anymore?" Jay notices.

"No," Mal takes a sip of milk. "I found that people online are way more interested."

"You know," Carlos inputs, "that might just be because you're the king's girlfriend."

"No," she rejects. "I'm thinking it has more to do with them not thinking I'm evil." She notices his confused expression, "I have a pen name." before she grins. "Speaking of which." She takes the cash out of her jacket and hands it to Evie, "I told you I'd pay you back."

Evie frowns as she takes it, "Yeah."

"What?" Mal raises her eyebrows.

She faces her, "M. What if I didn't have money for the materials. Audrey would have been totally mad if I didn't get her dress finished in time."

"And then everything would be right in the world," Mal unenthusiastically adds on.

"I'm serious," Evie stresses. "You could have gotten me into a lot of trouble."

"Look," Mal reasons. "I got what I wanted, you got what you wanted, and everything is fine now." She bites into her sandwich, "So, stop acting like what I did was so bad."

"Mal," Jay comments, "I think she's just telling you not to do it again."

She shakes her head, "Then why not just say that?" before she notices Belle and Ben walking through the cafeteria. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"Maybe it has to do with your unconsensual make out session with Ben," Evie pointedly states under her breath.

"Well, if it is," Mal counters, "then I'll just have to tell her all about how he tried to throw himself off the roof last weekend and how I saved his life."

"Ben did what?" Carlos shocks, and they all glance at him before turning back to the approaching mother.

When Belle gets to the table she gives Mal a look, "May I speak to you for a minute?"

"Sure thing," she agrees.

"Somewhere quieter," Belle suggests, and when Mal looks at Ben he looks away.

"Whatever," Mal submits, before she stands from the table. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Follow me," Belle instructs, and when she begins to walk off Mal follows; however, Ben still keeps his distance, and the majority of the room gawks at the spectacle.

When they find a secluded hallway Belle turns around, "I've been informed that you've been acting on your alcoholism."

Mal looks at Ben and he scratches the back on his head in uncomfortableness, before she turns back to his mother, "And?"

"And," Belle comments, "I would like you to tell me why you stopped drinking in the first place."

Mal's eyes shift down as she frowns, before she narrows her eyes at her in defense, "That's none of your business."

"No," Belle nods. "My son is my business, and if you refuse to cooperate I will make sure you won't be able to see him."

"You can't do that," Mal calls her bluff.

"He listens to me," she stares Mal down. "If I think you're a bad influence, possibly even a danger to him, then he will do as I say when I tell him to stay away." Mal looks to Ben for sign he wouldn't, but he doesn't even meet her eyes. "I will ask you again," Belle continues on, and Mal meets her serious expression. "Why did you stop drinking in the first place?"

Mal is quiet for a minute, glancing down again, before she faces her, "Someone almost got killed." She looks away from Belle, unable keep eye contact, and when she sees Ben she looks away from him as well. "I stole from Hook's distillery, a few kegs and one of the processors… They knew they wouldn't be able to hurt me with my mother being my mother, so… they took Jay as random. They wanted their supplies back." Mal gulps as she feels the tears burn her eyes, "But most of the product was already gone and Jay already did a number on the processor before they took him."

When Mal fails to continue to speak Belle asks, "What happened then?"

"I told my mother what'd happened," Mal recalls. "She said it would just have to be something for me to learn from." The tears fall to her cheeks and she quickly wipes them away, "Lucky of us, Jafar was in one of his better moods… He actually cried when he found out his son's life had been threatened, and Mother… She went to get Jay for him."

"And that's when you stopped," Belle concludes.

Mal whispers, "That's when I started to try." and her eyes shift. "It took a long time."

"I need you to start to try again," Belle softly responds. "You're not doing yourself or Ben any favors by acting in this behavior again." Mal nods. "Good," she comments, before she glances at Ben. "You can both help each other."

"Mother," Ben intrudes.

She meets his eyes, "I can't be there for you all the time." before she nods towards Mal. "But she's your girlfriend. She can be."

"What can I do?" Mal quietly asks in confusion.

Belle turns back to her, "Ben hasn't been eating right." and when Mal looks at Ben she notices the creases in his clothes. He's lost weight. She looks up and notices the paleness of his skin. "Now, I can't keep tabs on him all of the time, but you're around him more." Mal meets her eyes again. "You can make sure he's taking care of himself while he's here."

Mal shakes her head, "I can hardly take care of myself."

"Like I said," Belle counters, "you two can take care of each other." She checks her watch and makes a noise, "I really need to go." before she goes over to place a hand on Ben's shoulder and kiss his cheek. "I love you."

Ben stands still as he looks at Mal, failing to speak, and when his mother walks off he places a hand on his other shoulder. Mal notices his uncomfortableness, and she hesitates, "Look. I thought about what happened, and…" Her eyes shift down before meeting his again, "I realized that a lot of people here don't put a lot on sex in a relationship, and I shouldn't have assumed you would. I'm sorry."

It takes a moment for him to speak, "Just so you know, when I said my mother could talk to you… I didn't think I would be there."

"She said you haven't been eating right," Mal notes, before she takes a step forward.

Ben hesitates, "I eat. It just hasn't been a lot of meat."

"Meat isn't an option for us," Mal informs. "You know that?" Ben merely nods, before he looks away; however, when Mal steps forward again his attention is brought back to her. "Are you tired?"

Ben shakes his head, "I'm always tired." She takes a final step, and Ben cautiously observes her as she takes his hand. His nails are short, but they seem healthy enough. They must grow slower than hers. "What are you looking for?" Mal meets his eyes before reaching for his light brown hair, and when he filches she stops, meeting his eyes once again, before she slowly continues to his head. Ben feels her fingers slides down a clump a couple times, and when her hand leaves his hair she frowns before looking at him again. He lowers his eyes from hers and notices the hair strands in her hand. It takes him a minute to comment, "I know what you're thinking." before he faces her. "But I lose a lot of hair in the spring." He eyes down at them again, "It doesn't mean anything."

When she claps her hands clean he looks at her again, and she points out, "You're pale."

He lifts his shoulder, "I haven't been outside."

Mal gives him a serious look, "You're pale, because carnivores need more iron than other people and you haven't been eating meat." Ben looks away from her. "I know you need your space after what happened," Mal accepts, before Ben eyes her over. "But I want you to at least take an iron supplement if you're not going to eat."

Ben's quiet for a moment, "Will that even work?"

"A little." Mal looks off, "I was taking them back on the Isle."

"You had them?" Ben questions.

"Multivitamins were often supplied with the rations," she explains. "Girls would sometimes get iron too for when they got their period."

"Right," Ben comments, before he faces her again, "And they work?"

"You're probably going to need to take two times as much," Mal informs, "and it won't help with the hair loss." She nods, "But is should help with the tiredness and the hunger." before she gives him a look. "Because, I'm guessing you've been completely ignoring it."

Ben wets his lips, "I don't have an eating problem." He looks away, "I just can't deal with meat right now." before he gauges her expression.

"What's there to deal with?" Mal continues to frown. "It's meat. You eat it."

"Maybe I don't like meat," he slowly excuses.

She narrows her eyes, "Now you're just lying." and he looks off again. "Ben. It's just food. Eat it. It's not that hard."

Ben faces her, "Would you tell Evie that?"

"Evie has an eating disorder," Mal debates, before she raises an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"No. Of course, not," Ben defends.

"Then eat," Mal counters before she eyes down. "And… when you feel like you can talk to me again…" She shakes her head, "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

When she begins to walk away he urges, "Wait." and then she stops. "I love you. You know that."

It takes a moment for her to respond, "You don't need to pretend. You can't still care so much about me after what I did… and I don't blame you."

"Mal," he comments. "I love you."

"No. You don't," she counters. "You just feel obligated to." She pauses, "But it's fine. I never deserved your love anyway."

"Mal," Ben sadly says.

Mal quickly intrudes, "I'll give you some space." and with that Ben sighs as she walks away as he brings his hand to his head and then it drops back into place.

* * *

\- No comments from the last section. Maybe just too heavy or disturbing to talk about? If so, I'm afraid these chapters won't be much better.

-Posted: 12/13/2018


	154. Date Night

**Date Night**

 **(Tuesday Evening)**

When Ben and Chad enter the theater Ben grabs his hand, and he looks back at him. "Let's stay in the back. We made enough of a spectacle in the lobby."

Chad makes a face, "Sure. Okay." before he takes a seat in the back row and Ben sits to his left. One by one he pours the candies into separate paper cups, before he offers Ben the cup of caramel chocolates, "Want some?"

Ben takes a sip of his soda, "No. Thank you."

Chad pours a couple into his hand before placing it back into of the of cup holders, and when the movie starts Ben asks, "What's this about again?"

Chad smirks, "You'll be more scared if I don't tell you."

"So, it's a horror movie," Ben concludes before nodding.

"Would you like some veins?"

"What?" Ben frowns at him.

Chad holds up the bag of red twizzlers, "Would you like some vines?"

"Oh," he breathes in relief before shaking his head. "No thanks. I'm good." Ben watches as Chad bites into one, and he takes a deep breath as he forces himself to face the screen again.

After a little while Chad looks at Ben, "How is this not scaring you?"

Ben lifts his shoulder, "Ghost movies don't really scare me, and neither does possession." before he faces him. "Sorry." He hears Chad groan, "How are you holding up?"

"Ghosts scare the shit out of me," Chad comments. "They're real, you know."

"Yeah," Ben evenly responds. "I know."

"And you're still not scared of them?" he disbelieves. "They're invisible. They move objects with their mind. They can even take over people's bodies."

"That's just poltergeists," Ben devalues. "And ghosts really aren't that common anyway. Only a witch can truly communicate with them."

"So, which is it?" Chad asks. "Are there really not that many or does it only look that way because only witches can talk to them?"

"Honestly?" Ben continues to stare at the screen. "I'm not sure."

"Cool," Chad immediately comments. "That's cool." He distracts himself from the movie, "So… What kind of movie would scare you?"

It takes a minute for Ben to answer, "You know those movies that depict domestic abuse, that are sometimes even based on true stories?"

"Yeah?" he slowly answers.

Ben looks down before nodding, "Those scare me."

"Really?" Chad furrows his brows. "I always thought those were just uncomfortable… and sad." Ben looks back at the screen. "Why do those scare you?"

"Because," Ben begins, "it's normal. You get used to it." He pauses, "It's just always that way, and, then, one day out of nowhere someone just dies." before his eyes shift to his soda. "Well, maybe not out of nowhere." He takes a drink. "When it's in a movie you can see the events leading up to it, and that ominous feeling of knowing what's going to happen, that's what scares me… It's knowing that it's going to happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

After a minute Chad asks, "Ben?" and he looks at him. "The other night—"

"You don't need to worry about that," he quickly dismisses. "I was just being stupid."

"You were saying how great your father was, as if he's not," Chad continues on, before he remembers, "You said you're sick." He doesn't even look at him. "Ben. I would really like to hear about it."

"Hear about what?" Ben counters. "My father? You know how he is."

"I know he gets mad easy," Chad comments, and when he fails to respond Chad questions, "And what about being sick? What's that all about?"

"I rather think," Ben irritably replies, "that my medical problems are none of your business."

Chad sighs, "Come on. We've known each other forever."

"What do you want?" Ben swiftly turns to him. "For me to list it all out for you?"

He's quiet for a second, "Yes." and then Ben turns away from him.

He takes another drink, "Where should I start?" and he looks up as he names them off. "There's my high body temperature, my high blood pressure, high heart rate as of late, malnutrition, and undiagnosed insomnia and probably anxiety… My mother thinks I'm depressed." He doesn't face him, "I feel like I'm missing something. Oh. Right." before he half laughs. "You know, I completely forgot about this frickin' fractured shoulder I still have, because my fucking father thought the best time to lay a hand on me would be when I was already hurt."

"What do you mean, lay a hand on?" Chad seriously questions.

"What do you think it means?" Ben snaps, before he shakes his head. "He's never done it before and he claims it will never happen again, but the fact is that everything that went wrong this year went wrong because of him. If it weren't for him, I'd be speaking English right now. I'd be doing better in school. Mal and I would be okay."

Chad watches as Ben shakes his head, "You make it sound like he's the reason your shoulder got hurt."

"No. Of course, not," Ben immediately says. "I fell. It was all my fault, aaaall my fault." He takes another drink and hears the straw make that annoying noise, "Damn it." before he sighs. "I have to get a refill."

When Ben stands Chad reaches for his wrist, and Ben looks back at him. "Just finish telling me what you have to say."

"There's nothing to tell," Ben frowns.

"No. There is," he insists, and Ben looks toward the door. "Please. I want to know."

Ben takes a deep breath before sitting back down, "Look. Everything I've just told you, I told you in confidence. You understand?"

Chad nods, "Yeah. Of course."

Ben faces him, before he slowly says, "There's only one thing you really need to know, and that is I could die any day."

"Because of your father," Chad assumes.

"No," Ben quietly corrects. "Because of my high body temperature. Even with medicine it's still fairly high, and I've been hospitalized for it countless times." He gauges Chad's expression. "You're still my choice for king, and I need you to be prepared for when I die."

Chad shakes his head, "No. I don't want to get the crown like that."

"And I don't want to die in a hospital bed with my father sitting next to me, insisting on how much he loved me," Ben counters, "but we can't always get what we want."

"I don't want you to die," he whispers.

Ben can see the tears shining in his eyes, "Unfortunately, that isn't up to us." before he puts the cup back in the holder and places his hand on his shoulder. "I've dealt with this illness my entire life. There's no reason to believe I'd get so sick any time soon. I just need you to be prepared for in case I do." He pauses, "And if something should happen to me… I'm really tired of just surviving. If I were to die, you should know, I'd be at peace with it." Chad looks from his eyes to his lips. If he could just lean forward and show how much he cares, would that give Ben more strength to fight or would it only keep him from receiving the crown? "Chad?"

"You can't leave me with the crown," he denies. "I'm stupid." He smiles, "I'm an idiot, remember? I couldn't even rule my own kingdom without you there to tell me not to do something, much less an entire country."

Ben widens his eyes, "I have faith in you."

Chad's eyebrows raise, "Faith in me?" before he shakes his head. "I'm a pill popper, a junkie. I have no credibility."

"We're both ill in our own ways," Ben evenly comments, "but yours can be overcome." His eyes shift, "And if for some reason you can't get over this…" He meets his eyes again, "This addiction has not changed who you are. You became dependent on a painkiller. That's it. You're still the same person as when the year began." He doesn't speak. "I have enough faith in you for the both of us, and I sincerely hope that when the time comes you will honor my wishes." Ben leans forward a little, "Okay?"

He gulps before nodding, "Yeah. Okay." and after a pat on the shoulder Ben reaches for his drink. Chad watches as Ben stands up and moves to the door, and when the door shuts again he tries his best to recompose himself. How pathetic was he, crying over some guy like this. Except, it's not just some guy. It's his childhood friend, his inexplicable crush, who claims he could die any day. Why hadn't he said anything before? If this was a lifelong thing and he'd been suffering, then why didn't he come to him? The answer is simple: he must either not like him enough or he likes him too much, and with that knowledge Chad attempts to calm himself before reaching for the cup of sour candy.

* * *

In the midst of the second half of the movie Ben groans, "Why does there have to be so much gore in this?"

Chad turns to him, "You're not squeamish?"

Ben almost laughs, "No. Not at all."

"Then what is it?"

"If I tell you, you'll think I'm weird," Ben concerns.

"Everyone's weird," Chad frowns, and then the woman from the movie shrieks. "Come on. You just told me about all of your medical problems. You can tell me about this."

"Good point," Ben says, before he unsurely asks, "You want to know another secret?"

"Sure."

It takes Ben a moment, "This is like a really big secret." before he turns more towards Chad. "Are you sure you can keep it?"

Chad makes a face, "Yeah. Sure." Ben gives him a look. "I promise."

Ben nods before he meets his eyes, "So…" and he takes a deep breath before furrowing his brows in hesitation. "Gory movies tend to just make me really hungry."

"Okay. First off," Chad lifts a hand, "that's not weird. It's just gross."

"Yeah," Ben slowly says as his eyes move away.

"Why does it make you hungry?"

Ben wets his lips before excusing, "Well, scientifically speaking, red is a very appetizing color for people."

"Really?" Chad inquires.

Ben opens his mouth before confirming, "I can honestly say there's a study on it and that it's true."

"See," he comments, "that's still weird, because when I see the gore all I can think about is the blood and the flesh." Ben places his hand to his stomach, as it growls again. "And just how disgusting it all is." He gives him a look, "Is it not the same with you?"

Ben's tilts his head, "Not really… Like I said before, blood doesn't make me squeamish." and when Chad doesn't respond he continues. "I've actually had rare steak before, so maybe it just doesn't really register for me.

"How rare?" Chad questions. "Because, if it's like one of those steaks that's practically raw and has the blood filling the plate, I can't even look at those. Just the thought of it makes me want to gag."

"Yeah." Ben recalls, "Humans really can't drink blood. After a single pint they'd feel sick and at two liters the iron would become too toxic for them." Chad gives him a look. "What?"

"First off," Chad addresses, "how do you know that? And secondly, what's up with you saying them?" He looks him up and down, "I mean, you are human. Aren't you?"

Ben keeps himself from wetting his lips, "I learned it in Anatomy and Physiology." and he shuts his eyes for a moment as his stomach rumbles. He opens his eyes and notices Chad glance from his stomach to him. "I was researching something for a paper, and one question led to another. You know how it is."

"So, you're not like a vampire or something?" Chad makes sure.

Ben gives him a look, "Vampires are legally recognized as humans." before he looks away. "And the reason why I said them is because I say them for practically everything. I'm just objective like that."

"So, you're not a carnivore?" Chad questions again.

Ben faces him, "Do I look like a carnivore?" and as he watches Chad look over him he feels his heart thud faster.

"Open up your mouth."

"What?" Ben shocks.

"I want to see your teeth," Chad informs. "Smile for me." Ben takes a deep breath through his nose as he shows his smile, and he tenses to keep it as Chad's brows furrow. "You have an overbite."

Ben closes his lips before mumbling, "So?"

"So," Chad counters, "aren't dentists supposed to fix that?"

Ben looks away for a second, "It would have been cosmetic."

"You're a royal," Chad disbelieves. "You have the money."

"It wasn't medically necessary," Ben stresses. "What's wrong with just keep your teeth the way they were meant to be?"

Chad shakes his head, "Nothing, I guess. I just know my parents would have done it for me." before his expression softens. "A good smile is a key to good communication and trustworthiness. I couldn't even see half your teeth. How are you going to get any of your policies across if your smile isn't as good as what you're saying?"

Ben frowns, "Not everyone needs to charm their way through everything, Chad." before he sees him look down. "So what if only my top teeth can be seen and they're not as white as yours… Unless, you just think my smile is that ugly."

"No," Chad breathes. "Of course, not."

Ben slowly shakes his head, "Then what's the big deal?"

Chad faces him again before hesitating, "I just wonder, well, if your parents have been taking care of you."

Ben places a hand to his head, "Chad."

"And you mentioned before about malnutrition," he continues.

Ben widens his eyes at him as he snaps, "I'm malnourished, because I'm not good at taking care of myself. Okay? That's it. That's all." and then he lets out a long, calming breath. His stomach growls again and he shuts his eyes, "Seriously, though. I'm not going to be able to make it through the rest of this movie without something…" He looks back up at him, "Do you still have those milk duds?"

Chad's eyes shift, "Um." and then Ben shakes his head.

"Never mind."

"No. Wait," Chad hurriedly states, before he hands him the package of red strings. "You can have the vines."

Ben nods as he takes them, "Thanks."

Chad half smiles, "Any time."

* * *

When Chad and Ben exit the movie theater they are met by several crews of cameras, news vans blocking just about every rout; however, the black car is still parked at the curb in front of them. A blond reporter sticks her microphone up near Ben's face, "Would you like to tell us what you've been up to the last few weeks?"

Ben furrows his eyebrows, "What?" Her words far too fast and loud, yet muffled by all the other sounds.

"What happened to your shoulder?" she questions instead.

"No comment," Chad immediately frowns, before he guides Ben past her; however, several other reporters ambush him on the way to the car. Something so close shouldn't be so hard to get to. "No comment," Chad says again and again, until they make it to the car.

When Ben opens the door he hears a man shout in French, "Is it true your father ambushed you at the school?" and Ben stares at the brown, bearded man.

Chad pushes on his back, "Come on." before Ben's attention is brought back to the car and he goes inside. He presses the com button, "Starlit Nights." before he anxiously looks at Chad. "What's happening on social media?"

Chad gives a cautious expression before taking his phone from his pocket, and after a minute his mouth gapes, "Um."

"What is it?"

He shows the snippet to Ben. It's only about thirty seconds long, but the footage is clear. His father is breaking down the door to his dorm, and they title says how he ambushed him. Chad watches him place a knuckle to his mouth, "It's okay, you know."

Ben nods, placing his hand down to his knee, "You're right. It's nothing. No one could use that for anything."

Chad gives him a look, "Ben."

He hears his seriousness and faces him, "What?"

"I meant it's okay, like you'd be okay," Chad comments. "Like, I'd be here for you."

Ben sighs, "It just happened once." but Ben's eyes immediately look off. He was telling the truth in the moment, but now he realizes it had been a lie.

"That doesn't make it okay," Chad asserts.

"Look," Ben finds it hard to say, "it was an accident."

"The ball of a fencing sword falling off is an accident," he counters. "Breaking down someone's door isn't."

"Drop it," Ben yells, before he slowly shakes his head. "Please."

Chad nods, "Okay, but under one condition."

Ben frowns, "What is it?"

Chad glances at Ben's lips before looking away. He can't ask for that. He faces him again and thinks up, "Go out with me again."

"What?" Ben furrows his eyebrows.

"This night didn't go as good as I wanted it to," he explains, before he ruffles his blond curls with a hand. "I want to try again."

It takes a minute for Ben to compromise, "How about somewhere quieter, and, you know, more private?"

Chad smiles, "I'd be okay with that."

Ben nods, "Okay, then. I'll let you know when I'm free."

* * *

"So, what can I get you two?" the waitress smiles.

"I'll just have a few baskets of mozzarella sticks, a pitcher of soda, and some cookies and key lime pie for desert," Ben lists.

"So," Bridget makes sure, "that's three baskets of mozzarella sticks, a pitcher of Diet Cola, ten macadamia nut cookies, and one key lime pie?"

Ben shakes his head, "Sure."

Chad looks up from the menu, "I will have the lemon chicken with sauerkraut on the side and a fruit salad." before he hands the menu back to her with a smile. "Oh. And can we get two extra glasses?"

"Why two glasses?" Ben gives him a look.

Chad grins before taking the bottle out of his leather satchel, "I got your favorite."

"You didn't," Ben sighs.

He sets it on the table, "Come on. You've got to loosen up."

"Mal's not supposed to drink," he frowns.

Chad furrows his eyebrows, "So, you can't either?"

Ben makes a noise, "Well."

"Two wine glasses, please," he addresses the waitress.

"Anything else?" the brunette questions.

Ben stares down Chad, "No. That will be all."

"Okay, then," she replies. "I will be back with your order."

When Ben continues to stare Chad asks, "What?"

"How do you do it?" he questions with furrowed brows.

"How do I do what?"

"Get me to do whatever the hell you want," he disbelieves.

After a second Chad grins, "It must be my charming smile."

Ben rolls up the cloth napkin, "Oh, fuck off." as he throws it at him, and when Chad laughs Ben can't help but smile. "You're absolutely unbelievable."

"I know. I'm amazing, right?"

Ben laughs, "So, here's a question. Are you actually trying to be funny or is this thing where you turn a negative comment into a positive just some defensive mechanism?"

Chad shrugs, "Never really thought about it." before he smiles again. "Good thing I can be positive, though. With your negativeness about dying and all that, if you were with anyone else this date probably would have ended at the theater."

"Date?" Ben questions.

"You know," Chad excuses. "Just that we planned to spend time alone away from everyone and everything. We planned to go out and have fun." He pauses, "Death really isn't a good conversation to have on a date."

"I mean," Ben looks off. "You have a point there." He faces him again, "But if I recall correctly you're the one that was prying for information."

"I was just trying to open you up," he defends. "If you can't even tell me, then who are you going to tell?"

"That's the thing," Ben's frown deepens. "I don't really tell people anything. They just tend to find out for themselves."

"So, I'm the first person you told?" Chad's eyebrows raise.

"Without a reason to tell, yeah."

Chad's smile widens, "I must be special."

Ben's mouth gapes, "Or, maybe, it's just because you don't know how to make it through a single conversation without being a complete ass." and then Chad laughs.

He shakes his head, "Are you high right now?"

Chad continues to laugh, "Only a little. You're a real downer."

"Oh. Shut up," Ben smiles, before he sees the waitress come back in and set the items out in front of them. "Thanks, Bridget."

"No problem," she comments. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Ben meets her light blue eyes, "No. Thank you."

She nods, "See you in a bit." before she heads back out the archway, and when Ben turns towards Chad he notices his displeased expression. "What?"

"Nothing." He busies himself with his chicken, "I just don't really like her."

Ben shakes his head, "Why not?"

"Because."

"Because?" Ben prods on.

"Well, because," Chad sighs before facing him. "We're trying to hang out and here she is hitting on you."

Ben gives a look, "She is not hitting on me." and when Chad's expression doesn't change he explains. "We've just known each other for a while now."

Chad still looks displeased, so Ben uncorks the wine and smiles, "Come on. Loosen up."

He laughs and watches as Ben pours them their drinks, and when Chad takes his glass he lifts it up, "For an eventful evening."

Ben counters, "For an uneventful night." before they clink the glasses and drink.


	155. Confused

**Confused**

 **(Tuesday Night)**

"Drawing again?" Evie questions, as she sees Mal on her bed with the sketchpad.

"What?" Mal defenses. "It's a good way to earn money."

"But you said Belle wanted you to stop drinking," she reminds her.

"So, what?" Mal raises her eyebrows. "That means I'm not allowed to make money?"

"Where else are you going to spend it?" Evie counters.

"I'll get a phone." Mal smiles, "Maybe then… I can still give Ben some space." She sighs, "We're not even going to break up, are we? We're just going to drift, until he completely forgets about me and I can obsess about every little thing that led us there."

At the mention of a phone, Evie pulls her own out, "Come on, M. Ben loves you."

"Maybe he used to," Mal mumbles. "Now… I don't see how he could."

"Just remember who his mother is," Evie reassures as she swipes through her phone. "She fell in love with a literal beast. If Ben is anything like her…"

"Then I don't need to worry about it," Mal rolls her eyes. "But Ben's father only looked like a beast. What I did to Ben, there's no way he's going to love me after that." Mal waits for Evie to debunk her argument, but there's nothing but silence. "Must be bad if you agree with me." There's still no response, and Mal sits up, "Evie?" She has her earbuds in, and Mal slowly tries again, "Eves."

Evie takes them out and frowns, before she meets Mal's eyes, "It's Ben."

"What about Ben?" Mal shakes her head.

"Just keep in mind," she attempts to reason, "Chad's just a stupid guy."

Mal sets her drawing pad down and widens her eyes, "What about Chad and Ben?" before she stands to her feet.

"It's just a joke," Evie attempts to calm her down. "It's nothing. Really."

She strides over and gives an intense look, "Show me." and Evie sighs before handing the phone to Mal. There seems to be a short video, and when she presses play it starts out with Chad's obnoxious laugh.

He points the camera towards Ben, "Okay. Say that again. Except, this time in English."

Ben gives him an annoyed look, "Fuck you."

Chad points the camera back at himself and grins, "You hear that? Even the king of the country would fuck me. I guess, I really am charming."

Ben's voice is heard in the background, "Don't show it. It'll make us both look like imbéciles.'

He makes a face, "No. Of course, not." before he grins back at the camera, winking before the video ends.

Mal's mouth gapes, "I don't believe this."

"It was just a joke," Evie reminds her.

Mal faces her and stresses, "He went to our restaurant with Chad. He said I was the only person he took there."

It takes a moment for Evie to question, "Person or girl?"

"Does it matter?" Mal seethes. "He took Chad to where we had our dinner dates."

Evie watches as Mal paces across the room, "Okay. So, it wasn't his brightest idea, but—" before she notices her grab the purple bag. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" Mal says as she goes to the door. "I need a drink."

Evie steps in front of her, "You just promised Ben and his mother you would stop."

Mal widens her eyes at her and leans in, "Well, clearly, Ben doesn't care much about what I think, and you know what? His mother doesn't want a drunk with him anyway."

"Mal," Evie sighs as she passes her.

Mal smiles at her, "Be back, princess." before she opens the door and exits the dorm.

* * *

Ben groans as the alarm goes off, and after reaching for it he keeps tapping until it silences. "Loud?" Doug questions, and he hears him complain in French. "Sorry? I didn't quite get that."

"I said," Ben sits up in annoyance, "because my ears aren't good already."

"That's sarcasm," Doug inspects, and then Ben rolls his eyes. "Okay. Forget talking. It's time to get up. We still have class today." He watches as Ben finds the ibuprofen and downs five pills with the water. "Not a good night to get wild, huh?" He stays silent, merely standing from the bed; however, when Ben walks over to the dressers that's when Doug notices it, "Uhh." He reaches for his neck, "Ben." He turns around, and Doug unsurely comments, "Just so you know… that's Chad's jacket."

Ben looks over the lettermen's jacket and finds it has the wrong number, and when he turns his head to peak at his back he sees Chad's name. He squints in confusion, before he faces Doug, "Why?" Doug slowly shakes his head with pursed lips. Ben lets out a breath, "I have to give it back." before unzipping it, but when he feels the air he looks down and finds his chest is bare. His mouth gapes, and he looks back at Doug, "Where did my shirt go?"

Doug's eyebrows raise, before he scratches his cheek with his forefinger and slowly says, "Well."

Ben laughs, "No." as he gives a stern look. "Chad's not like that." He points to himself and stresses, "I'm not like that."

It takes a minute for Doug to say, "Normally I would agree with you, but if you have to tell yourself that…" Ben eyes drift before he swiftly turns back to the dresser, pulling out the first t-shit and pants he can find and changing, before he takes the jacket off from the dresser and rushes to the door. "See you later."

When Ben makes it to Chad's dorm he knocks loudly, and he can hear indistinct sounds as the footsteps come towards the door. Chad opens it with a smile, "Hey." hand on the post.

Ben pushes the jacket up against him, "What the hell happened last night?"

Chad points a finger at him, "You don't remember?" and when Ben fails to respond he closes his eyes and taps his forehead. "Of course, you don't. Drinking is a social thing. You probably don't do it that often."

Ben shoves Chad inside and slams the door shut, "I said, what the hell happened last night." and he sees Chad frown, slightly startled. "Why did I wake up just now shirtless with your name on me?"

Chad looks between Ben and the jacket before smiling, "Oh. I get it. Nice joke."

Ben takes a step forward, "I'm not joking. Does it look like I'm joking?"

He holds up a hand, "Ben. It's okay. Just chill."

"No. I'm not going to chill," Ben shouts. "You're going to say what happened to me right fucking now."

Chad frowns, and it takes him a moment to calmly inquire, "What do you think happened?"

"I," Ben begins, before he sighs and shakes his head, "I don't know." He feels his eyes warm, before he quietly questions, "Where did my shirt go?"

"That?" Chad's eyebrows furrow. "I'm washing that for you."

"Why?"

"Because," he slowly responds, "you spilled wine on it." Ben doesn't speak, and he faces him as he takes a step forward, "Look. You spilled wine on your shirt, and we went to the bathroom to get you cleaned up." Ben's eyes shift, as he recalls them standing in front of the mirrors, Chad unbuttoning his shirt for him. "I gave you my jacket so that you wouldn't be breaking the dress code."

Ben's brows furrow as he pictures Chad sucking on his chest and then moving downwards, "And nothing else happened?"

Chad shrugs, "I wiped the wine off of your chest with the clean part of your shirt."

He remembers how after Chad had sucked the sticky wine off he'd dried his saliva with the shirt. "Okay," Ben unsurely says, before he gives him a look. "That's still a little weird. No one saw that, did they?"

Chad raises his eyebrows, "No one came in."

Ben vaguely recalls Chad's thumb moving along the waistband of his pants, "And you're sure nothing else happened?"

"Yeah. Why?" he makes a face. "What do you think happened?"

"It's just," Ben takes a deep breath, "I've seen you when you drink." His eyes shift, "And sometimes you can get a little touchy with people."

"Yeah," Chad reasons, "but I've never touched someone's junk without their consent." He gives a look, "And people can't consent when they're drunk."

"I don't get it," Ben eyes lower. "It's either it happened or…" He shakes his head before placing a hand to it, "I feel so confused right now."

"Well, you blacked out," Chad reasons. "Confusion is normal."

He sighs, "Yeah, but I shouldn't be this confused, not like this."

"Ben," Chad places a hand on his shoulder, and he looks back at him. "You're one of my best friends. I would never do anything like that to you."

Ben mumbles, "I know."

He pats his shoulder before smiling, "Well, there you go." and he holds up his jacket. "Thanks for returning this. I'll catch up with you at lunch. Audrey's been having just a texting fit over that little video I posted of us last night, and I'm going to have to have breakfast with her to explain it."

"Video?" Ben furrows his eyebrows.

"I know. You told me not to post it," Chad slowly says with a frown. "I guess my inhibitions were lower than I thought."

"What video?" he sternly repeats.

"Well, you swore at me," Chad unsurely explains, "and I kind of made this joke out of it about how you would fuck me." He shifts his eyes, "Like, sexually."

Ben's mouth gapes, "How is that even funny?"

He makes a face as he ruffles through his blond curls, "Yeah. It's, uh, less funny now." before he fakes a smile. "You know. It went viral. So… you should probably check on Mal."

Ben's eyes widen in realization, "Oh, crap." before he turns around to the door.

"So, I'll see you at lunch, then?" Chad calls after him, before Ben hurries off.

* * *

By the time Evie answers the door Ben still struggles to catch his breath, "Hey."

Evie gives him a look of suspicion and slowly replies, "Hey."

He clears his throat, "Is." before taking a few more breaths. "Is Mal here?"

"Still asleep," Evie frowns before looking over him. "She drank last night. A lot."

Ben lets out a long breath before taking in another one, "She said she wouldn't."

"That was before she saw that video of you and Chad," Evie counters, before she picks up on how loud his breathing still is. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ben furrows his brows. "It's just this thing with my heart." He notices her expression turn more serious, "Nothing. It's nothing." before he takes another big breath. "Anyway. I need to talk to Mal."

"So, just to be clear." Evie slowly asks, "You want me to wake the sleeping dragon and send her to you?"

Ben makes an unsure expression, "Yes?"

Evie grins, "I'll get her, then." and as she seems to skip off, Ben can't help but feel he's made an awful mistake. He hears Evie wake up Mal, Mal's groaning, and then more of Evie's encouragement. Apparently, even his name isn't enough to get Mal up. His frown deepens, and he stares down at his feet for a minute. He must have really messed up. He looks up again. It's just too bad he can't remember it.

When Mal makes it to the door Ben smiles, "Hey." and his eyes immediately move up to her tangled hair.

She frowns at his grin, "Something funny?"

"No. Nothing. It's just…" He points, "Your hair."

Mal narrows her eyes, "Is this supposed to be some cruel and unusual punishment for what I did to you?"

Ben frowns, failing to understand, before he smiles again, "I just like curly hair."

Her eyes shift, "Well, that explains a lot."

"Pardon?"

"You know." Mal faces him, "Just how close you are to your mother." before her eyes shift. "And that date you had with Chad last night."

"It wasn't a date," Ben quickly reassures. "And my feelings for my mother are normal."

Mal furrows her eyebrows, "Of course, they're normal. What else would they be?"

He freezes for a second, "I thought you were saying." before he wets his lips. "Nothing. Anyway." His eyes shift as he takes a deep breath, "I'm here about the… the." He looks up in annoyance, "What's it called? That thing people watch."

"The video," Mal slowly answers.

"Yes," Ben grins as he taps a fist in the air. "I'm here, because I need you to know that Chad was… he was…" His smile completely falls, "It was a joke."

"You drank last night."

"Um, yes," Ben answers, "but why do you think I do?"

"Because," Mal irritably answers. "You can't speak right."

It takes a minute for Ben to comment, "That's not from the drank. My head doesn't work, because my arm doesn't work, because I fell. The end."

"The end." Mal grins, "Then you won't mind if I do this." before she closes the door on him, watching the realization pass over his features as she does so.

"Mal," Evie disapproves. "You've been complaining about Ben not being with you nonstop, and now that he's here you're shutting him out? Literally?"

"He's not here to be here with me," she counters as she walks back over to her bed. "He's here to make another excuse and leave again."

"So, you did his job for him," Evie inserts.

"Don't worry about it." Mal takes the wine bottle off from her bedside table, "I've got him right where I want him." before she finishes off the last few inches. "Pretty soon he will be begging to be with me. You'll see."

"I see you're absolutely delusional," Evie counters.

Mal lifts a finger, "Or, maybe, I just want you to think I am."

Evie shakes her head, "I don't know about you, but I have class." before she goes and opens up the door and Ben meets her eyes. "You're still here."

"I was hearing," Ben slowly states, "but I didn't get anything."

"Of course," Evie sighs, before she places a hand on his back. "Come on. Let's go."


	156. Guidelines

**Guidelines**

 **(Thursday Morning)**

"The Freedom Rights tells us our rights and liberties, which were created at the time this country was founded." She holds the pointing stick in her hands as she turns to the four of them, "If it makes it easier to understand, you can think of them like the ten commandments." She grins, "Well, except that it's a list of things we can do instead of what we can't do, and if anyone breaks these they will be sent to court instead of the underworld." She notices the four of them frown, and her smile slightly falters as well, "Right. Okay, then. As you can also see on the board, it's an acronym." She points to each of the letters, "The f stands for freedom of speech, the r stands for right to vote, and first e stands for education, the second e for emergency services, the d for documentation of law, the o for opportunity, and the m for magic misuse guidelines." She turns back to them, "Any questions?"

"Yeah," Mal leans back in her seat, her legs up on the desk. "I thought magic was illegal." She glances around the room, "I mean, that's why no one uses it. Right?" before facing the headmistress again. "Or else, why wouldn't you be teaching your daughter?" Carlos slightly nods. "I mean, you saw how Jane was with your wand. Her magic was all over the place, and that kind of energy building up like that?" She mumbles to her friends, "I wouldn't be surprised if she spontaneously combusted one day."

"Okay. First things first." Fairy Godmother watches Mal drink from the black water bottle, "There has been no reports of a magic user spontaneously combusting since the middle ages. And secondly, I don't believe my daughter should become dependent on magic. Women are hindered enough in this world."

"And magic would give her a leg up," Mal opposes.

"Well, that is not for you to decide," Fairy Godmother firmly responds. "And, just to be clear, magic is not illegal. It's retired."

"What?" Mal places a hand to her ear, "I couldn't hear you over that annoying filter Auradons use to pretend everything's all so perfect here." but her friends remain silent.

"Nowhere is perfect," she frowns, "but I would appreciate it if you would stop acting like the place you grew up is any better, because if it were you would have returned by now."

"Is that an option?" Carlos quietly asks.

Evie hisses at him, "You can't be serious."

He opens his mouth in hesitance, "What? I was just wondering."

"If you would like to visit the Isle of the Lost or return there permanently, then take it up with King Ben," the headmistress inputs. "I'm afraid those legalities are above my paygrade."

Jay looks over at Carlos, "You wouldn't seriously go back there." and then Carlos's eyes move down. "Your mother was horrible to you."

He faces him, but it still takes him a moment to say, "I miss her."

Jay shakes his head, "Whatever." and he crosses his arms. "If you go back there, I'm not going with you."

"It's fine," he whispers. "You don't have to."

"Fucking masochist," Jay disbelieves, before he points towards the board. "What's the magic misuse one about?"

"Ah, right," Fairy Godmother turns back to the board. "The magic misuse guidelines were created so that magic users could know how magic could get them into trouble and so that the nonmagic people could be rest assured that they would not be harmed by said magic." She turns back to them, "The basic rules are simple: if you use magic in a way that goes against the above freedoms, then you will be punished for it. So, if you use magic to harm someone, stifle their speech, whether literally or figuratively, or if you make it so others do not have equal opportunity as you because of your magic use, then those things would get you in trouble."

"So, basically," Mal comments, "you can't use magic for anything."

"Mal," Evie sighs.

"No. Just think about it," Mal furrows her eyebrows. "Those hairstyles I did to get your business up and running, no one else had that opportunity. If I got annoyed at, let's say Audrey, for insulting me and telling me how I'm going to go to hell, put some temporary silencing spell on her, then that would be a crime too."

Jay looks back at Fairy Godmother, "Yeah. I'm with Mal. It sounds like magic is only retired because people thought they'd be breaking the law."

The headmistress nods, "Maybe, but it's not as sinister as you may think."

"Then enlighten us," Mal frowns.

Fairy Godmother pulls a chair up from the wall and sits, "Well, when His and Her Majesty were first ruling tensions were high between the magic and nonmagic people. The nation was very hesitant to submit to their rule. And those reasons were because of mere rumor and speculation that Queen Belle had actually been an enchantress and that her proclaimed husband was just some animal that she'd turned into a human."

"What's an enchantress?" Carlos questions.

"It's a witch with fairy magic," Evie answers.

"Although, back then," Fairy Godmother informs, "humans had a much looser definition. An enchanter or enchantress was an umbrella term for anyone who had unexplained abilities, but more often than not it did refer to either a witch or fairy."

"So, what happened next?" Jay prods on.

"Well," Fairy Godmother sighs, "the queen had to think of her own safety." She nods, "So, Belle made it law that no enchanter could be killed as punishment for their use of abilities, but to appease the humans she also listed these freedoms and created the magic misuse guidelines so that it would be clear which types of magic were unlawful enough to have a punishment for them."

"A human was afraid of dying?" Mal irritably responds. "That's why magic's illegal."

"That's why it's retired," the headmistress softly corrects.

"Like there's a difference," Evie counters. "And what about witches? Their abilities aren't exactly the kind that can be controlled." She nearly laughs, "Or, at least, that's what I've read."

"I know your mother was a witch," Fairy Godmother puts forth. "It must be a sensitive topic for you."

"She," Evie hesitates before meeting her brown eyes. "My mother had telekinesis. It didn't happen a ton. It was mostly just when she was angry or scared." She looks down, "Which was pretty much all the time, but…" Evie looks at her again, "When my mother got really emotional it would just happen. Kni- ow, things would just fly across the room." She remembers how they'd fly at her. "It wasn't something she could completely control, and it doesn't make sense that there would be a law saying that it can't be used."

"Luckily for witches," the headmistress informs, "the magic misuse guidelines are more for magic users and less for those with more of spiritual abilities." She thinks, "Although, if you dabble with potion making, then that would fall under the guidelines."

"But anyone can make a potion," Evie laughs.

"I never said it made sense," Fairy Godmother comments. "It's just the way things are."

* * *

When Audrey goes to shut the door Chad frowns, "I thought this was supposed to be a party or something."

Audrey takes his hand and pulls him over to the beanbag chairs, "I know I said that, but I know this is going to be hard for you to talk about, so—"

"Talk about what?" he interrupts.

She forces a smile as she presses on his shoulder, "Come on. Let's sit." and after he moves down to the baby blue one she curls up in the pink one. "Chad. We need to talk."

"Oh, no."

She shakes her head, "What?"

"Well, it's just," Chad nods down. "You know, whenever a girl says 'we need to talk'."

Audrey rolls her eyes, "It just means it's important." before she sighs and takes his hands. "And this is important to me, because you're important to me."

"Okay," he slowly says in unsureness.

"That thing you told me the other night." She watches him look away, "Look. It's okay." and when he still fails to face her she places her hand on his cheek until he meets her eyes. "It's okay. I'm going to help you through this."

"How," he mumbles.

"I'd like to pray with you."

Chad notices the sparkling hope in her dark brown eyes, and it only makes him feel worse, "Audrey. It's not like I've never prayed about this before."

"It will be different this time," she promises. "Praying for oneself is selfish. God will be far more likely to respond if it's someone asking for you."

He takes a deep breath, "Audrey. This, it's… I'm physically dependent on the stuff, and the more I use the more it hurts to stop. The pain is worse now when I cut down." He shakes his head, "This isn't possible."

"With God all things are possible," Audrey stresses, before she slightly shakes her head, "Just don't think about the pain. Think of love, how much Jesus loves us, how much you love your family and friends and me, and with God's guidance you can be free." He doesn't speak, so she sweetly smiles, "Promise me you'll at least try."

He takes a moment before facing her and nodding, "I'll try."

She grins, "Okay. Now pray with me." and it's not a minute later that they bow their heads with shut eyes as Audrey asks God to help Chad through his pain.


	157. Sensitive

**Sensitive**

 **(Friday Afternoon)**

"Another comedy?" Mal asks as she looks through the movies' list.

"Mmm," Lonnie complains. "I'm not really in the mood."

"Isn't that what comedy is for?" Mal counters.

"I'd just like something that doesn't have so much drama."

Mal gives her a look, "Are you sure you want to watch a movie right now?"

"Okay." Lonnie settles, "So long as it's a cartoon, the drama can't be that bad."

"One cartoon coming up," she announces.

As Mal looks through the movies, Lonnie notices the water bottle, "That's not water." Mal gives her a dumbfounded look. "Oh. Right." Lonnie notices the deep red, "What is it?"

"Juice," Mal immediately lies.

She makes a displeased noise, "Juice wouldn't be that thick in color."

"Fine," Mal bypasses. "Blood, then."

"Really?" Lonnie inquires.

"No."

She shakes her head, "Then what is it?"

"Okay, Lons," Mal turns to her and places a hand on her shoulder. "One thing I really hate is when people ask questions they already know the answers to. It's a big time waste."

Lonnie is quiet for a moment, before she meets her green eyes, "Is it wine?"

She grins, "There you go." before she grabs her water bottle. "You're smart. You know it. I know it." Mal gives her a look, "So, why do you always have to act so dumb?"

"It's just sensitivity" Lonnie quietly defends. "If I was wrong…"

"You don't need to be sensitive with me," Mal lets her know before taking a drink. "I'll let you know if you're wrong. Right now." She faces her again, "Your so-called sensitivity is just a tiny bit annoying to me." She looks her over and smiles, "But I like the red."

"Well," she hesitates, "I know you don't like pink."

Mal moves Lonnie's hair behind her hair, "How sensitive of you." before she places her hand to her cheek and meets her eyes; however, the moment is ruined by the loud banging of the sewing machine, and Mal lets out a loud breath as she turns. "Evie. You mind?"

"You wanted me to be quiet during the movie," Evie partly smiles.

"You know what I meant," Mal irritably responds.

"Do I?" she tilts her head. "Because, I recall that you were telling me that I needed to be quiet so that you could hear the movie." She grins, "There's nothing to hear right now."

"If I turn the stupid thing on, will you be quiet?" Mal proposes.

Evie's eyebrows raise as she evenly answers, "Yeah."

Mal presses play and then Lonnie leans on her, before Mal wraps an arm around her, "How many movies is this now? Four?"

"Five including this one," Lonnie corrects.

"Right," Mal remembers, and when the movie comes to a part without dialog she comments, "I like this. You make a good pet."

"More like a free roaming, aloof cat," she slowly thinks.

"Not a cat," Mal disagrees. "If I had to draw you as an animal, it would be a dog. A black lab, probably."

"I like the animal," Lonnie notes. "But why black?"

"Your hair color," Mal continues to look at the screen. "You probably noticed, when it grows out it's going to be black again. That spell didn't change it forever."

"Yeah," she answers. "I did. I'm going to have to dye the roots and slowly get it back to my natural color."

"Or," Mal suggests, "I could just spell it back to black if you want."

Lonnie makes an unsure noise, "That's really nice of you, but I don't want to risk using magic now that my mom's home."

"Hmm," Mal contemplates. "Suit yourself."

* * *

When Chad opens the door his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "Mom? Dad" before he looks between them. "What are you doing here?"

"You have a game tomorrow," his dad smiles.

"And," his mom places a hand on his dad's shoulder, before she places one on Chad's as well and meets his eyes. "We need to talk to you about that video."

Chad frowns, "Do you want to come in?"

She smiles, "That would be nice." and Chad steps aside to lets them through.

He gestures to the table, "Have a seat." before he notices his roommate's grey eyes staring at them. "Why don't you take that book somewhere else?"

"Why?" Hayden smiles. "This looks like fun."

Chad points to the door, "I said go, you sociopath."

The black haired guy laughs, "Okay." before he stands from his bed. "It looks like I'll have to find another entertaining room to read in." He pats Chad's shoulder, "It's okay. I know how much you like your privacy." before he turns to Chad's parents. "He used to have girls in here all the time." He grins as he makes quotes with his fingers, "Studying."

Chad's mouth gapes before he faces his roommate, "Leave."

After the guy goes Chad lets out a breath of relief, before his dad questions, "Is what he said true?"

He nearly rolls his eyes, "Okay. You really need to know that he only said that, because he has the hardest time getting fun and thinks it's funny to make a bad situation even worse."

"So, you didn't do that?" his dad slowly asks.

Chad is quiet for a moment, "It doesn't matter. I'm dating Audrey now." before he goes over and sits down across from them. "So… The video?"

"Yes," his dad nods. "It was very short, so we don't want to assume anything."

"Now is the time to give us context," his mom informs.

Chad shakes his head, "I don't understand. What needs to be explained?"

"You can't possibly believe that was acceptable behavior?" his dad asserts.

Chad gives a look, "It was just a joke."

"Sweetie," his mom frowns, "breaking the law isn't a joke."

Chad's mouth slowly gapes in realization, before he lets out a breath and he dad adds on, "You're going to be king one day. You need to take the law seriously."

It takes a minute for him to comment, "It's not like I kissed him or anything."

"No. We know," his mom quickly reassures, before she takes her husband's arm. "We would just like to know how this… this joke came to you in the first place."

Chad looks down, "I don't know." before he glances over them and eyes the their reflection in the window. "Ben's my friend, we're close, and… he said fuck you." They don't speak, and Chad sighs before facing them, "Does there need to be a reason? I was completely buzzed. I wasn't thinking. It just came to me."

It takes a moment for his mom to inquire, "Why do you think it came to you?"

He shakes his head in near frustration, "I don't know." and he can feel the tears start to intrude his eyes. He takes a deep breath to calm them, "It's just… we've known each other for forever, and there's not a lot of boundaries now, I guess." He gulps, "But it was wrong." before he faces his parents. "Both legally and spiritually. God would not want me to joke about homosexual sex as much as you would because of the law." He feels the tears intrude again as his breathing becomes faster, and he looks down, "It was also disrespectful to Ben. He may be my friend, but he's also my king and I shouldn't have impacted his reputation like that."

His dad carefully comments, "You didn't make Ben drink. The actions he took that night was on him, not you."

"But we're glad to see you take the law seriously," his mom inputs, before she hears him sniffle. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Chad breathes. He hasn't even started crying yet. The runny nose is more likely a withdrawal symptom. "It's nothing. I think I'm just coming down with something."

"Will you still be able to play tomorrow?" his dad questions.

"Oh, yeah," Chad faces them. "It's not a big deal. I'll just take some medicine before the game. It'll be fine." He looks between them, "I really am sorry. It was stupid for me to post that video." and then his eyes shift. "Or even joke about it in the first place." He meets their eyes again, "I'm sorry."

His dad smiles, "You owned up to your mistake, and now you get to learn from it. That's what's important."

"And no matter what happens," his mom lets him know, "we will always love you."

Chad tries to smile, "Yeah. I know."

His mom smiles back, "We were just about to grab dinner. Do you want to come with?"

Chad shakes his head, "No, but thanks." as his eyes drift to the table. "I already ate, and if I'm really sick I should probably get a lot of sleep for that game tomorrow."

His dad nods, "In that case, we'll see you there." before he stands up and offers his wife his hand. Chad watches as she takes it and then stands.

Her smile widens, "Good night, and make sure you do rest."

Chad nods, "Don't worry. I will." before he faces them. "Have a good night too." His parents walk to the door, and after Chad watches them leave he immediately gets up from his seat and rushes over to his bedside table. He takes out the orange bottle and pours the pills into his hand, staring at them for a minute, before he puts all but one back and takes it.

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Mal's revenge on Chad


	158. Some Poisonous Reptile

**Some Poisonous Reptile**

 **(Day 126: Saturday Afternoon)**

"Mal," Evie tries to reason, "Ben is innocent in this."

"Maybe," Mal counters as she stares out at the tourney field. "But Chad sure as hell knew what he was doing."

"You just learned the guidelines yesterday," Evie reminds her. "If you use magic to get revenge on him—"

"Oh, stop worrying," Mal interrupts. "I'm not stupid." She looks at the group below them and notices the blond girl with the blue Gatorade, "Hey. Ponytail." She turns around, and Mal points to it, "Are you going to drink that?"

"I was going to," she unsurely states.

Mal takes a five dollar bill from her pocket and hands it to her, "How about now?" and with that the exchange is made and Mal grins.

Evie sighs, "What are you doing?"

Mal opens the bottle and begins to spit in it, "He's going to pay one way or another."

Doug watches as she continues, "Isn't this a little… I don't know… petty for you?"

"No," Evie frowns. "It really isn't." She puts a hand on her arm, "Mal. Have you even done this before?"

"No, but it'll work," she answers.

"But, Mal," Evie comments. "What if it works too well. What if he suffocates?"

She raises her eyebrows, "Then it looks like this temporary solution would become a permanent one instead."

When Mal stands Evie takes her hand, "M. Please. Don't do this."

"Sorry, Eves," she evenly responds, "but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."

They watch Mal shake up the bottle, before she walks down the bleachers and Doug questions, "What's she doing?"

Evie stays quiet as she watches Mal chat up Chad, opening the bottle before handing it to him, "Just… You'll see."

Down by the benches Chad stops before taking the first drink, "Why are you being nice to me again?"

Mal gives him a look, "Not everything's about you, Chad. It just so happens that my friends are on your team and sooo I would just like to make sure the weakest link isn't going to completely mess them up, like the hog you are."

Chad nods, "Okay." before he smiles. "Thanks for the drink."

When Mal leaves and Chad sits back on the bench Carlos comments, "What was that?"

"Something about me hogging the ball and her wanting me to make sure I'm at my best," Chad answers before gulping down the drink. "It's going to be a good game."

"Yeah," Carlos slowly says as he eyes Chad over.

He turns to him, "What?"

Carlos shakes his head, "Nothing."

Chad gives him a look, "You think I'm stupid for taking that drink."

"I didn't say that," he quickly defends.

"Okay. Look," Chad tries to reason. "Don't you think if it was so important for me to drink the drink that she'd been nicer so that I'd be more likely to take it?"

"No," Carlos immediately asserts. "I don't think that at all."

Chad laughs, "Okay, but I drank it and I'm fine." before he raises his arms. "So, everything is fine."

He gives him a look, "You're high."

"On spirit," Chad shouts. "Wup, wup."

After the rest of the team mimics him Carlos places a hand to his head and sighs, "Look. Chad."

"That's Prince Chad to you," he interrupts.

Carlos gives a look, "You've crossed Mal several times now. Aren't you worried?"

"Look." Chad places a hand on his shoulder, "So long as Mal wants to stay in this country and suck up to Ben's family, she won't hurt me."

"You sure about that?" his pitch raises in unsureness. "I mean, she's Mal."

Before Chad can speak the coach shouts, "Game is starting. Get into position." and the team stands from their seats; however, after Chad pushes himself up from the bench he immediately falls to the ground.

Coach Jenkins yells, "Chad. You alright?" and when he doesn't respond he hurries over to him. "Hey." He kneels down, "Are you okay?"

Chad looks up in the stands, noticing Mal's smirk, before his eyes shift down, "I can't feel my legs."

"Can you sit up?" he questions, and Chad lifts himself up, scooting back to lean on the bench. "Hold on. I'll call emergency services for you."

"No," Chad shakes his head. "My parents are here. They can take me."

The coach nods, "I'll get them for you."

"Oh, God," Doug says as he watches Chad's parents pace down the stands in worry. "Mal. What did you do?"

"What are you talking about?" Mal counters. "I had nothing to do with this. Clearly, Chad was attacked my some poisonous reptile." She looks over and sees his stress, "Would you calm down. He's just going to miss the game. He'll be fine."

* * *

When Chad's parents enter the hospital room he complains, "What took you so long?"

"Just a little paper work," his dad explains, before he and Chad's mom sits next to him.

She asks, "How are you doing?"

It takes Chad a minute to say, "I really hate this nightgown."

"Well, they gave you a blanket," his mom notices. "That's something."

Chad brings a hand to his face, as he feels the tears leave his eyes, "Why me? God, why did this have to happen to me?"

It takes a moment for his dad to say, "God works in mysterious ways."

"The world can be a cruel place," his mom agrees, "but everything happens for a reason. You've just got to believe."

After a minute of Chad's continuing crying his dad softly asks, "Did they find where the snake bite was?"

Chad shakes his head, "It wasn't a snake." and he puts his hand down. "They couldn't find it."

"We shouldn't rule it out," his mom comments. "You were paralyzed. It had to have been something."

Chad looks at them, "Why weren't you here. You could have done the paper work in here. You could have been here, and you weren't."

"We had to give the information to the receptionist," his mom explains, and then she notices him look away. "Sweetie. I know how you must be feeling, but—"

"No," Chad asserts. "You don't know anything." He shakes his head, "I was here, and you weren't, and…" His eyes shift down.

"You're right," she accepts. "One of us should have stayed with you."

"You're damn right." Chad glances between them, "You should've been."

There's a knock at the door, and when Chad looks he sees the blond nurse with rectangular glasses, "The first scan came back."

Chad hesitates, "What is it?"

She closes the door before facing him, "There was no trace of snake venom in your system." before she looks at his parents. "However, a steroid was found."

His dad frowns at him, "Chad?"

Chad's mouth slightly gapes, "It's not what you think. I just took some cortisone for my ankle before the game."

His eyebrows raise, "You mean, that sprain you got before Christmas?"

It takes a moment for Chad to say, "It still hurts."

His mom's eyes widen, "Sweetie. Why didn't you tell us?"

Chad glances down, "Tourney was starting up." before he pauses. "I didn't want to leave Ben alone, and then when he left those new guys came in and…" He faces her, "Jay is like a frickin' acrobat. If I get benched he's going to take my spot."

"If the pain has persisted for this long," the nurse inputs, "then it's more likely to be a fracture than a sprain." They look over and her, and her blue eyes meets Chad's, "If you don't stay off your ankle until it heals, then you risk your ability to play competitively at all."

"No," Chad's eyes widen.

"Don't worry," she reassures. "If we get you checked out now and if it is a fracture, then so long as you rest you should be back to playing in a matter of weeks."

"School will be ending in weeks," Chad disbelieves.

"Sweetie," his mother says.

"In the meantime," the nurse continues, "I will get toxicology to run some more screenings to see if we can find anything else."

"So, the cortisone didn't do this to him?" his dad makes sure.

"It is unlikely," she nods.

After his parents take a breath of relief Chad comments, "I'm actually feeling better now. Like, I can feel my upper thigh, so that test probably isn't necessary."

"We still don't know what caused this," the nurse informs. "We need to find out."

Chad takes a moment, "In that case." before he faces her. "There is something else you will find." He turns to his parents, "I would use the cortisone for the field, but my ankle would hurt a lot more afterwards. So, I convinced Dr. Hoffman to get me a prescription to even that pain out."

"Can you tell me the name?" the nurse asks.

Chad looks at her, "I don't remember it right now, but it's probably an opioid."

The nurse nods, "I'll make sure that's taken into account." before she looks between them all. "Opioids can be addictive. How have you been handling them?"

Chad's quiet for a moment, "All I know is that every time I stop them my ankle hurts worse than before."

"We can probably get the medicine's name from your doctor, but we may still need to know the dose you were taking."

"And you're asking me?" Chad questions.

"We won't be able to get your x-ray until your paralysis has either been solved or has worn off," she explains. "It's likely you will need to stay the night." Chad groans in annoyance. "I'm going to need you to tell me the dose you take."

Chad's eyebrows raise, "As needed."

"And how much is that usually?"

"It varies," he bypasses, and she gives him a look. "This is stupid. My script is in my dorm at school. If it's just for one night, can't I just have someone get it for me?"

The nurse frowns, clipboard in her arms, "The hospital is liable for any and all medications you take while under our supervision. I'm afraid we can't allow that."

"Sweetie," his mom sighs. "Just tell her."

Chad glances at his parents before facing her, slowly shaking his head, "In the morning and at night, and after tourney practice in the afternoon… a couple pills, I guess."

She nods before facing his parents, "Withdrawal symptoms can happen even for short-term users of this type of medicine. It's important that after his ankle injury is taken care of that he isn't taken directly off of the prescription. I highly recommend that he sets up a schedule with his doctor to help him wean himself off of it."

His mom nods, "Okay."

The nurse smiles, "See you in a bit."

"It's afternoon," Chad yells after her; however, the door shuts before his sentence finishes, and he stares up at the ceiling.

"She's going to need to know the right medication first," his mom comments.

"Yeah." Chad sighs, "I know."

* * *

\- Still no new comments. I was reminded that it's the holiday season, so I'll try not to get too paranoid... Also, at least one person (possibly a couple) unfollowed the story; however, then I realized that with how often I've been posting I'm probably spamming you with notifications, so I'm trying not to take that personally.

-Posted: 12/15/2018


	159. Wrong

**Wrong**

 **(Day 127: Sunday Noon)**

"Well, look who it is," Mal comments at the cafeteria table, as Chad wobbles into the room. "Looks like Charming's back."

Doug turns and notices the open toed cast, "You really did a number on him."

"Why?" Mal furrows her brows. "Because of that strappy boot? That's not my fault."

"No," Carlos mumbles. "He's been complaining about ankle pain for a while."

"Why's he coming over here?" Jay questions.

"Better question," Mal comments. "If he's here and not with Ben, then where's Ben?"

"Oh, no," Doug realizes, before he stands from his seat. "I'll go find him."

After he leaves Mal returns her attention to Chad, before he says, "Hey."

"What you want?" she irritably responds.

Chad doesn't speak, merely glancing over them all and then observing her. "Hey, pretty boy," Jay cuts in. "She asked a question."

He hesitates, "I'm just wondering if I should thank you or not."

Mal shakes her head, "What for?"

"You know," Chad nods down. "For poisoning me. If I wasn't sent to the hospital, then my ankle could have got worse. Thanks to you I get to keep playing."

Mal narrows her eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Chad glances down, "It doesn't matter. It's just…" before he meets her eyes again. "I know it was you, and even though you made a lot of bad stuff happen to me." He pauses, "I would like to thank you."

"Then why not just say it and get it over with?" she counters.

Chad's quiet for a moment, "I just did." before he shakes his head and sighs. "Never mind. I'm just being stupid."

After he leaves Mal turns back around, "I paralyze him to get him out of the game, and that somehow makes it so that he can play that game longer?" She rolls her eyes, "I swear, some people just have all the luck in the world."

* * *

"Hey. Ben," Doug comments, as he walks into the dorm and notices him at the table with a textbook. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Ben mumbles.

"I didn't see you at lunch," he walks forward. "You had me worried."

"Afraid I was going to jump again?" he mumbles.

"Yes, actually," Doug furrows his brows and takes a seat across from him. "You can't just disappear after what you did."

"Disappear," Ben repeats. "Dis means not, and…"

"I just mean," Doug explains, "that I would like to know where you are."

Ben frowns, "I'm always here. I always do homework. It's not that hard to work out."

"Yeah. I know, but—" He faces him, "I'm still scared about what you could do." before he adjusts his glasses. "I mean, first you say you could kill yourself if you wanted to, and then you actually tried to?"

"I was going through stuff," Ben excuses.

"So, you're not still thinking about doing it?" he questions.

He gives him a look, "I told my mother I would be there for her. I'm keeping that."

Doug notices his expression change, "What is it?"

Ben wets his lips, "Nothing." before he faces him. "It's just… my doctor said that if I don't eat meat, then— that." He shakes his head, "Just that I have to."

"Because you will die if you don't," Doug frowns.

Ben shuts his eyes and grips onto his pencil, "I don't know what to do." before he opens them again. "I want to keep the— the… the promise I told my mother, but…" He looks up at him, "I don't think I can do it."

"Why don't you want to eat meat?" he softly questions.

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "It's a… a reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Of everything I'm not." before he meets his eyes again. "Of what I am." He looks down at the textbook, whispering, "I can't even look at it without feeling so…"

"Without feeling like what?" Doug asks, before Ben faces him and he can see the tears in his eyes.

"I don't know." He breathes, "I just feels so wrong. And I don't know why." Ben gulps, "Why is this happening to me?"

"Not to bring up the eating thing," Doug slowly answers, "but stress could have triggered it." He thinks, "You feel like you have no control over your own life, but there's two things you can control. You can control what you eat… and when you die." Ben's breathing increases, before he places a hand to his face and the tears begin to stream down. Doug places a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay. We're going to get you through this."

* * *

"You're a lot more irritable than usual," Carlos notices. "Are you off your drugs or something?"

Chad rolls his eyes, "No. I'm not off my drugs."

"Then, what is up with you?" he questions.

"That's none of your damn business," he bypasses.

"Is it what Mal did?"

Chad shakes his head, "She helped me. Why would I be upset about that?"

"Because, she paralyzed you," Carlos slowly points out.

"Yeah," Chad furrows his brows. "For, like, three hours."

"So, you're not upset?"

Chad turns to him, "Don't you think if I was upset, I would press charges?"

Carlos shrugs, "I don't know."

"I'm not upset with Mal," he frowns.

"And you're not going through withdrawals?"

"I mean," Chad sighs, "I'm trying to cut down, but I literally just took some so I could focus on homework."

"So, you're just generally irritable?" Carlos questions, and Chad merely shrugs. "You know, if it is just that, then orgasms are a good way to reduce stress."

Chad looks off, "We're not doing that."

"Why not?" he frowns.

"Because," Chad faces him. "I told you. I have a test. I need to study."

"And you can't take a five minute break to destress?" Carlos disbelieves.

"Okay." Chad's voice raises, "You want to know why I'm really not doing it? I'm not doing it, because it's wrong."

"Okay. Yeah." He slowly states, "It's illegal, but that's never stopped you before."

"That's not what I mean," Chad asserts, and then Carlos silences. "It's wrong, because God says it's wrong. We're not doing it again. Ever."

Carlos furrows his eyebrows, "You're going to let some dead guy tell you what to do? Sexuality is biological. Jesus didn't know that."

"God knows everything," Chad yells. "Now, if you don't like it, then get the hell out. Otherwise, stay and just fucking help me with this."

Carlos is quiet for a moment, "Okay. I'll stay." before he slides Chad's notes over. "Which section did you want to review?"

"Saturated vs unsaturated hydrocarbons," Chad lets out a breath.

Carlos nods as he finds the chapter notes, "Okay." and he looks over the vocab. "Can you tell me the difference between alkanes, alkenes, and alkynes?"


	160. Confession

**Confession**

 **(Day 127: Sunday Night)**

When Ruby answers the door Chad asks, "Is Audrey here?"

"She is," the blond answers.

Chad's quiet for a moment, "I need to talk to her."

Audrey walks up to the door, immediately noticing his discontent, "What's wrong?"

His sad eyes meet hers, "I need to have confession with you."

She shakes her head, "I didn't think Lutherans did confession."

"We have access to it." His eyes lower, "I'm just not comfortable with the idea." before he faces her again. "But you're my girlfriend, and I'd like to have confession with you." He lets out a shaky breath, "You know. Alone."

Audrey turns to her roommate, "Ruby—"

"I'll give you some space," she reassures, before she moves past Chad and leaves.

Audrey waves a hand, "Come in." and when he does she shuts the door. Chad waits for her, and after she takes his hand and they sit down in the beanbag chairs she sweetly smiles, "So, what's your confession?" She notices the tears in his eyes and frowns, "This is confession. I promise not to judge or get mad or take any of it personally."

Chad nearly smiles, "Thank you." before he gulps. "Audrey." He meets her dark brown eyes, "I think God is punishing me."

She's quiet for a second, "Why do you think that?"

"Because." He finds it hard to speak, "I enacted in immoral behavior, and now…" His eyes move down, "Someone's been immoral to me." before he faces her again. "The hospital," he starts before hesitating. "Everything that could have gone wrong has, and it's just been one thing after another." He blinks, and the tears fall to his cheeks, "I misused my prescription, and it showed up in the tox screening. I prided myself in my tourney abilities, selfishly keeping the ball from Jay, and now it turns out my ankle is fractured." He shakes his head, "I cheated on you." before he takes her hand. "I participated in homosexual acts, and God punished me for it."

It takes her a minute to respond, "Who did you do those acts with?"

Chad takes a breath, "As usual… My assistant."

She quietly comments, "That VK."

"I didn't think it was cheating at the time," he quickly tells her. "But it was still wrong, and—" He looks off, "And I shouldn't have done it." before he faces her again.

"Are you still…"

He firmly shakes his head, "No. I told him we couldn't do it anymore."

She nods, "And… will he still be assisting you?"

Chad's silent for a moment, "I still need the help. The only classes I'm really good at are health and language ones. Well, I mean, not poetry, but… you know what I mean."

She nods again, "And… are you sure you can resist the temptation?"

"Yes," he immediately says. "Especially now that you know."

Audrey slightly smiles before placing her other hand onto his, "And I will be here for you if you can't. Just come to me, and I will help you through it." He nods, and she continues, "Look. I'm not sure if God would punish the living." She looks deep into his blue eyes, "But what I do know is that when God tests us, he does not give us anything more than what we can handle. You will make it through this, and in the end you will be stronger for it."

"You think so?" Chad softly questions.

Her smile widens, "I know so." before she tilts her head. "But, these demons you've been wrestling with… You might need more help than what I can offer."

Chad frowns, "What are you thinking?"

Audrey is quiet for a moment, "How often does your family attend church?"

He shrugs, "It's mostly just the major holiday ones… A little more during the summer if we feel like it."

She nods, "I really think that you need to be spending more time in God's grace." and she grins as she squeezes his hands. "How would you like to attend church with my family? We'd leave Saturday evening, have dinner together, and then leave to church early the next morning." Audrey excites, "Oh. And in the afternoon I participate in the charities, and trust me: nothing heals the soul like doing good for others."

Chad slightly smiles, "You know… I think I'd like that."

"Great. I'll tell my parents." She moves onto her knees and wraps her arms over his shoulders, "I am so proud of you, coming forward like this. It shows strength."

"Well, I wanted to try." His smile widens, "I love you." before he moves forward and they kiss.

She giggles, "I love you too."

* * *

When Ben's phone rings he rejects the call again, and Doug comments, "Maybe you should answer that."

"It's just my mother," he disagrees.

Doug gives a look, "Which means you should pick up."

"She's only calling because I didn't go to dinner," he negates.

"You're only making me right."

Ben faces him, "Why should I?"

"Ben," he tries to reason. "You just tried to kill yourself last weekend. They're probably really worried."

He turns back to the laptop, "They don't know about that."

"You didn't tell them?" Doug disbelieves.

Ben furrows his eyebrows, "No. Why would I?"

Doug is silent for a minute, before he quietly mentions, "If you were serious about not trying to kill yourself again, then you would have told them."

He lets out a breath of annoyance before turning back to him, "Look. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Last time they were a little busy making me drink a shake."

It takes a moment for him to inquire, "And what's wrong with a shake?"

"It was like sand," Ben complains. "Wet sand."

Doug adjusts his glasses, "Is that why you didn't go to dinner, you were afraid they were going to make you eat or drink something?"

Ben's eyes shift down, "No." before he faces Doug. "I didn't go, because I didn't want to make my mom sad." He sees his phone ring again and swipes the red button again, "She cried last time… and when I told her I was fine, she cried even more." He stares down at the keyboard and mumbles, "It doesn't matter what I say. I will hurt her."

Doug sits down next to him, "I know this is hard for you, but if you just ate—"

"I can't," Ben stresses.

"Even if it's just with your parents at Sunday dinners?" he softly counters. "Isn't that the only problem here? Your mom isn't seeing you eat, so she thinks you're hurting yourself."

"Eating hurts," Ben quietly dismisses, before his eyes shift in thought. "The feelings hurt more than just… the pain of not."

"It would just be once a week," Doug informs. "That's it. That's all."

"It would feel like forever," he whispers, before he gulps and faces him again. "I'm scared. I don't know why… or what." He takes a breath, "I just am, and it's really bad."

Doug opens his mouth to speak; however, before he can he hears his own phone, and when he takes it out he sees who it is. He glances at Ben before answering, "Yes, Your Highness?"

Ben can hear his mother on the other end, her voice full of worry, "Where's Ben?"

"Here's here," Doug informs. "He's okay."

"He didn't show for dinner," she stresses.

"Yes," Doug unsurely comments. "He just told me that."

"Do you know what's been going on?" Ben hears his mother cry. "He isn't eating right."

"I know," he frowns. "We've been talking about it."

"Really?" she shakily breathes. "Because he hasn't been telling me anything."

"I'm sure he's only keeping things from you because of how much he cares about you," Doug slowly reassures. Ben hears his mother speedily speak, and although he can no longer keep up with her side of the conversation, he can still hear how sad she is. Doug looks at Ben, as his mother doesn't seem to stop. He feels a deep sinking in his being as his eyes fill with tears. This was his doing. He caused this. He stands from the table and hurries to the door, before Doug calls out, "Ben." He ignores him and leaves the room, pacing through the hallways until he finds himself outside. He sits down on the cold concrete stairs, and he breathes in the crisp air. Ben looks up at the cloudy, night sky, and there it is standing tall and mighty, his father's statue mocking him once again. What a mess he his, his life is, and it's all because of him.

* * *

\- I think this is my favorite chapter out of the ones I'm posting today.


	161. The Spirit

**The Spirit**

 **(Day 128: Monday Afternoon)**

"So, last week you said your boyfriend and his mother wanted you to quit drinking," the therapist notes.

"Yeah," Mal quietly confirms.

Her blue eyes face her, "And I suggested that finding a higher power might help you through your addiction. Have you found one?"

Mal gives her a look, "If it's a requirement, then I'll have to lie."

"It's not a requirement," the brunette reassures. "And it doesn't have to be a higher power, for say. It should just be something larger than yourself for you to be a part of."

"I'm a part of enough things," Mal tilts her head. "I'm a part of a school. I'm a part of a group of friends. I'm a part of the minority." She smiles, "That last one sucks." before she takes a drink from her water bottle. "You know, in fact," she lifts a finger, "I am the only member of my species." She laughs, "I mean, unless you count my mother who's a literal reptile now."

"Yes," she unsurely comments.

"You know, I could hypnotize you right now," Mal puts forth. "I could tell you to write me a glowing report, give yourself some time to reflect on your oh-so-good behavior, and let me go on my merry little way."

"No," she frowns. "You can't, actually."

Mal crosses her arms, "I've done it before."

"No," the therapist counters. "I've made you think you have before." Mal narrows her eyes at her in question. "I wanted you to be honest, so I let you think I was hypnotized to not tell anyone about it. But you never actually hypnotized me. Witches simply can't be."

"You know, that's funny," Mal immediately replies, "because I hypnotized Evie once to tell me if she knew who the spirit in her mirror was…" Her eyes shift, before she slowly continues, "And then when I hypnotized her leave the room she did not back down at all." She takes a contemplative drink, "You think she was playing me?"

"She's your friend," the therapist evenly responds. "What do you think?"

"I think she doesn't want me to know who the spirit in the mirror is," Mal answers, before she leans back, moves her leg onto her knee, and smirks. "But she will."

* * *

Evie sits on her bed, digging through her blue purse, "Come on. Where are you?"

"Looking for this?" Mal says, before Evie turns around and sees the ornate mirror in her hand. She grins, "I mean, you have to be, right? Who else would fit in your bag?"

Evie's eyes shift, "It's an expression." before she stands from her bed.

"You know, it occurred to me," Mal informs with interest as she walks around her own bed and to the middle of the room. "That night with Ben, you showed me that my hypnotism doesn't work on you. Which can only mean one thing." Evie stands between the beds, and Mal faces her, "When you challenged me to hypnotize you, you lied when you said you didn't know who the spirit was."

Evie frowns, "What do you want?"

"The truth," Mal counters. "Or else I will break it."

"No!" Evie steps forward.

Mal waves her finger, "Uh, uh. I don't think so." and when Evie tries to move again her feet are stuck to the ground.

"Please," Evie pleads. "Don't hurt him."

"Oh," Mal raises her eyebrows. "It's a him now? How interesting."

Evie feels the tears fill her eyes, "If you break the mirror, he will die."

"Isn't he like a ghost?" she laughs it off. "It doesn't get much more dead than that."

"Mal. I swear to you," Evie asserts, "if you break that mirror, I will never forgive you."

"Don't worry." Mal takes a step forward, "I won't. So long as you tell me who it is." Evie looks between the mirror and Mal. "Tic toc."

"I can't," Evie whispers.

Mal frowns as she nods, "That's too bad." before she starts an incantation.

"Wait," Evie shouts, before she finds her feet can move again; however, she doesn't dare move. "I'll… I'll tell you."

Mal smirks, "Whoever it is must be pretty important to you."

"He's a family member," Evie informs.

"What family member?" she interrogates.

"Does it matter?" Evie frustrates, before she steps forward and opens her hand to her. "I told you who he is. Give it back to me." Mal seems to think it over for a minute, before she places the mirror in Evie's hand. "You know what?" Evie stares her down. "The only reason why I didn't tell you he was a family member is because I know I'm the only one out of all of us who has a family member who actually loves me, loves me like the people here loves their kids." Her voice shakes, "And I just didn't want to rub it in your face. Any of your faces."

"Family's overrated," Mal evenly responds.

Evie grins in disbelief, "Why don't you go tell Jay that?" before she shakes her head. "I don't know who you are right now, but you are not the girl I fell for."

Mal is quiet for a moment, "Am I supposed to care?" and Evie feels the tears run from her eyes before she rushes past her to the door.

* * *

When Doug opens the door Evie wraps her arms around him, and he can feel her shake, "Hey. What's wrong?"

She lets go of him, "It's Mal. She— She threatened the mirror, and— And."

"Why don't you come in?" he suggests.

When Evie goes inside she takes a breath before turning back towards Doug, "She demanded to know who the spirit was, threatened to break the mirror if I didn't say."

"Is Mark okay?" he steps forward, and he watches as she pulls the mirror out.

"He's right here." Evie faces him, "I was thinking maybe I could leave it with you for a little while."

"I don't know," Doug unsurely responds. "I can be pretty clumsy."

Ben interrupts, "What's going on?"

"Oh, uh," Doug turns towards him. "Mal almost broke Evie's mirror. She needs a place for it to stay."

Ben stands from the table, "No one gets in my stuff." before he walks over to them. "I can take it." Evie hands him the mirror, before he goes to place it in the drawer of his bedside table on top of the blue notebook and next to his medicine. "And it can stay here."

"Just for one or two days," Evie reassures. "Just until Mal drops this."

Ben steps forward, "For as long as you need." and then she moves in to hug him. He flinches and makes a pained noise. "Oh, no. I'm sorry."

He tries to keep his smile, "No. It's fine."

"You sure?" she questions.

"Yeah." Ben nods before tilting his head. "I mean, it's not my you're my father. He could have broke me in two."

"Thank you for doing this," Doug interrupts.

He looks at him, "It's not a problem."

"Just one thing," Evie unsurely says, and Ben faces her. "It likes to be talked to. Maybe you could…"

"I'll see what I can do," Ben promises.

"Thank you," Evie breathes in relief.

Ben smiles, "You are welcome."


	162. A Problem

**A Problem**

 **(Day 129: Tuesday Afternoon)**

Doug sits at the table, "Ben?" and he looks up at him. "It seems like your English has gotten better. Would I be right?"

Ben lifts his shoulder, "More or less."

He nods, "In that case, I'd like to talk to you about something."

Ben sighs, "If this is about the eating thing—"

"No," Doug softly answers. "Not this time."

He shakes his head, "Then what?"

Doug is quiet for a moment, before he stands, "I want to show you something."

"What?"

"Just come with me," Doug instructs, and with that Ben stands from the table, Doug goes to open the door, and Ben follows him down to the end of the hall. Doug faces Ben, noticing his fearful expression, before he opens the recycling bin, "Do these cans look familiar?"

Ben stares into the bin. There's a sports' drink here and there, but the large majority of it is soda cans: his brand of soda. He wets his lips, "They look familiar."

"The entire bin is like this," he informs.

"Yes," he quietly accepts.

"Ben." Doug faces him, "I think you have a problem."

Ben lets out a breath, "Yeah." before he wets his lips again. "I know."

"So, you will stop?"

Ben shuts the lid, "No."

"Look," Doug comments. "I know it will be hard to cut down, but—"

"No," Ben shouts, and when they get several looks he whispers, "I said no." Doug watches as Ben strides back to the dorm, and when the people still offer questioning stares he follows his lead.

* * *

"I'm afraid I can't let you buy these," the brown haired man comments after Mal had placed the two wine bottles on the counter.

She narrows her eyes, "Why?"

He points to the sign, "We have the right to refuse service to anyone who has already bought seven bottles in a single week."

"What do you mean, right?"

He sighs, "There are some substances when taken too much can cause people health problems— or even death. When a store like mine completely ignores the health of their customers, we get sued."

"That's not fair," Mal nearly shouts.

"I get tax breaks for enforcing this precaution," the brown eyed man counters. "It doesn't have to be fair."

"Come on," Jay says. "Let's go."

"No. Hold on," the man says, and he points at him, "You're new. If you use your card, then that would technically be a different individual. You could buy these for her, if you'd like."

Jay furrows his brows, "You can forget it."

"Jay," she complains.

"No." He turns to her, "I came here to make sure you got home safe, not to help you buy alcohol to drown yourself in again." She becomes quiet, and he shakes his head, "Mal. Why can't you just try to get better again?"

"What for?" she counters. "I have nothing."

"You have me," he reminds her. "You have friends. That used to be enough for you."

She almost laughs, "No, I don't. You're more like an overprotective brother, and Evie…" Mal shakes her head, "I say she's my best friend, but we're obviously not and… I don't even know where we are right now." She looks off, "I made her leave. Like I made Ben leave." before she faces him again. "I just might have people, but I don't have friends."

"What about Carlos?"

"Carlos?" she half smiles. "I barely even know him. I know him, because I know you. I stand up for him, because Evie stands up for him. But that's all."

"Well, what about Lonnie?" Jay thinks up. "You've started hanging out with her, right?"

"Yeah," Mal gives in, "but she's really more like a cute, annoying pet."

He smiles, "And you can't be friends with a pet?"

"I guess," Mal mumbles.

After a moment Jay comments, "I have an idea." and she meets his eyes. "You're allowed seven bottles a week. That's enough for one a day. So, how about— if you feel like it that day— we walk here together, you get one bottle, and we share it back at the dorm. No more hiding wine in water bottles for class, and we'd be talking while sharing the bottle."

"Half a bottle is going to affect you a lot more than me," she points out.

"I never said we had to split it in half, but we'd both start with a glass."

She nods, "Okay."

Jay grins, "So, you'll try this?"

"Yeah," Mad nods before giving him a look. "So long as you get me a bottle tonight."

"Okay," he nods, before he stresses, "but only tonight. And we share the bottle and talk."

"I don't feel like talking," Mal complains.

"You've gone through hell, Mal," Jay points out. "You still are. You can't just not talk about it."

"You know," she points, "with your long hair and talk of feelings, I could swear you're a girl right now."

"Well, one of us has to be," he smiles.

Mal's eyebrows raise, "Funny. Not."

"Come on," Jay prods. "I can tell how lost you feel right now. You need to talk about it with someone, and you know how we talk. It's really just complaining. You won't become weak just by talking about this with me."

"I guess."

"So, you up for it?" Jay questions.

Mal faces him, "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Chad and Ben talk, Evie's mirror gets confiscated, Mal gets sick, and Ben's invited to game night.


	163. Hawthorne

**Hawthorne**

 **(Day 130: Wednesday Morning)**

When Chad walks up to him Ben turns from his locker, and he notices his giant grin, "You seem happy."

"Yes. I am," Chad nods, before he holds out a small, lidded cup. "Here."

Ben unsurely takes it, "What is this?"

"That?" He hurriedly answers, "It's a cup. You pee in it."

He gives him a look, "And why would I do that?"

"Okay. Look," Chad says as he places a hand on his shoulder. "I'm getting scouted, but obviously I can't pass a drug test. So, you're going to take it for me."

Ben's eyebrows furrow, "Scouted? But you're only a sophomore, and you're in a cast."

"I know," he excites. "Isn't it great?" He claps his hands together, "So, now, all I have to do is turn the test back in to Coach. By the end of the day. When can I get it back from you?"

Ben shakes his head, "You know, Chad. You may think I will do whatever you ask. But you're wrong, and you can't just make up my mind for me all the time just because I can't make split-second-decisions like you."

"But you're going to do it?" he raises his eyebrows.

Ben sighs, "Even if I wanted to, you know I take stuff too."

"No. Look," Chad cuts the air with his hand. "They're not going to be looking for that over-the-counter crap you take. They're going to be looking for steroids, opioids, that kind of shit." He grins, "So, come on. Help me out. I know you want to."

He gives him a stern look, "Just to be clear, your smile didn't influence me at all."

Chad makes a fist before moving his arm up and down, "Yes."

Ben sighs, "I can't believe I'm doing this for you." before he places it inside his three-ring-binder and maneuvers the stack of books out of his locker. "You know, holding that cup and my junk at the same time is going to be a pain in the ass."

"Well," Chad makes a face, as he glances at the blue sling, "I would offer to help, but—"

"I can do it myself," Ben firmly interrupts. "Even if I have to put the cup on the seat or something stupid like that."

He narrows his eyes, "You know you're supposed to pee with the seat up, right?"

Ben swiftly turns towards him, slamming his locker shut with his shoulder, "Do you want me to do this for you or not?"

"Duh."

"Then stop criticizing my methods," he declares, and after a minute he takes a deep breath and wets his lips, "You said you needed it back this afternoon?"

"Yes," Chad confirms.

Ben nods, "Okay. I have Anatomy and Physiology before lunch. How about you catch me before class?"

It takes a moment for him to ask, "Isn't that where the science classrooms are?"

"Well, it is a science class," he points out. "Don't you have Chemistry with Doug and Evie that hour, anyway? It should be an easy meet up."

"Yes," Chad frowns. "It should be."

Ben gives him a look, "What's wrong?"

Chad tries to smile, "Nothing. I was just thinking, who was your teacher again?"

He smiles, "Mr. Hawthorne. Pretty nice guy. I had him last year for Biology too."

"Wait," Chad interrupts. "He has Biology too?"

"And Botany and Life Science and Engineering," Ben lists the classes he recalls from the board. "I think you'll like him. He always manages to keep the class interesting, and sometimes he even gives out treats."

"Yeah," Chad slowly states. "He gives snacks to the tourney team too."

"Really?"

Chad nods, "You always left before he did… but he did." before he meets Ben's eyes. "He does, says it's to keep up our carbs or energy or whatever."

"That would have to be before the game," Ben counters.

"Yeah." Chad looks off, "You would think a Biology teacher would know that." before he faces him again. "Which I probably won't be taking next year, actually."

Ben gives a look, "But your plan was to take Biology next year so that you can take Anatomy and Physiology your senior year."

"Well, yeah. I know." He frowns, "But I feel like taking something else now."

"Like what?"

"Astronomy," Chad immediately says. "You know, I hear that stars sing. Is that true?"

"Yeah," Ben narrows his eyes. "But you're bad at math. Isn't Astronomy just another physics class, except with more math?"

It takes a second for him to grin, "Looks like I have some work to do this summer, then." before he pats Ben's shoulder. "See you before Chem."

"Yeah," Ben unsurely responds, before he hears the bell and watches Chad walk away.

* * *

"It's in the yellow binder," Ben says, before Chad takes it from the top of his stack.

"Awesome. Thank you," he comments.

When Chad begins to step away Ben furrows his eyebrows, "Hey. We're not done talking." and then he faces him again.

After a moment of silence Chad prompts, "So, we're talking?"

Ben wets his lips, "Look. Um." before he sighs. "Are you okay?"

He shakes his head, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," Ben uneasily begins. "It just, I noticed that you haven't really been on social media, and with how outgoing you normally are… Honestly, it's had me a little worried."

Chad shakes his head, "I just… I realized some things are private, that I don't have to share every little thing that's going on in my life." He makes an unsure expression, "Is that wrong somehow?"

"No. Of course, not." Ben sighs, "It's just… It's not like you."

"People change," he frowns.

Ben nods, "You're right. They do." before he hesitates. "But just to be sure… I know what Mal did. Does this have anything to do with that?"

Chad looks off before bearing his teeth at him, nearly yelling, "Not everything is about your stupid girlfriend."

Ben pauses, "Then what is it about?"

"Nothing," he enunciates. "I just figured I could keep some things to myself." He looks him over, "I thought that maybe you'd be happy about that." before he shakes his head and takes a step back. "I have to go."

"Wait," Ben calls after him, but Chad doesn't listen this time.

After Ben sighs he hears a voice from behind him, "Good morning, Ben."

Ben turns around and smiles at the black haired teacher, "Good morning."

"Your friend seemed in a hurry," he comments.

"Oh. Yeah," Ben glances back. "Class is starting soon."

He nods, "Yes. It is." before he starts to frown. "Shame, though. I was hoping to see how he's doing. It's not every day a sport loses its star player."

"I think he's fine." Ben's eyes shift in thought, "Just a little… off, I guess."

"Hmm," the brown eyed teacher nods. "But a broken ankle will do that."

"It's not broken," Ben corrects. "It's just…"

"Fractured?"

Ben makes a face, "Maybe… It's cracked."

"Does that mean he will be playing again this year?"

Ben takes a moment, "He's being… scouted."

"So, yes, then?" he inquires.

Ben lifts a shoulder, "I don't know."

The teacher nods, "Well. In any case, could you talk to him for me? Tell him I wish him well and back on the field?"

He nods, "Yeah. Okay."

The man smiles, "Great." before he takes some papers out of the red folder. "Oh. And here." He places them on top of his stack. "The notes and homework assignment."

Ben smiles back, "Thank you."

He meets his eyes, "You are very welcome."

* * *

As Ben and Chad walk down the hallway to lunch Ben remembers, "Oh. And Mr. Hawthorne wanted me to tell you that he hopes you get better soon and back onto the field."

Chad huffs, "Of course, he would."

Ben stops, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He turns towards him, "Really? You don't see it?"

"See what?"

"He's not a good guy," Chad stresses.

Ben takes a moment, "How?"

"He just is," Chad widens his eyes. "You've got to believe me."

"Chad," he sighs. "Mr. Hawthorne rewards students for good work, he checks on how we're doing, and even you've said how much he's been supporting the tourney team."

"Exactly," Chad nearly yells. "He's not our coach, you get that? He doesn't have the right to get all up in our business, compliment us and ask if we're hurt, or give out snacks. Hell. He doesn't even have the right to talk to us." Chad furrows his brows, "He's a fucking science teacher. He should stay in his room, where he belongs."

It takes a minute for Ben to respond, "Teachers are people too, Chad. He has a life outside of the classroom, and if he likes tourney, he likes tourney." He notices Chad look off in frustration, "And isn't it a good thing that the players have that extra support?" Chad shakes his head. "Seriously. What do you have against him?"

Chad faces him, "What I have against him? He's not our coach. And he ain't no fucking nurse either, so he should stop pretending to be."

Ben takes a deep breath, "Look. In my opinion more teachers should care about keeping their students interested in what they're learning and make sure they succeed in all areas of life, but if you really think he's overstepping his bounds as a science teacher… Well, then, maybe you should report him."

Chad is quiet for a moment, "No." before he lets out a breath. "It's nothing. I was just being stupid. Forget about it."

Ben unsurely comments, "Okay." and with that Chad turns around and continues to walk down the hallway.

* * *

When Ben sits down at the table the five people stare at him. "What?"

"You're sitting with us," Jay points out.

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Chad didn't want to sit with me."

"Really?" Mal raises her eyebrows.

Ben looks about the table, "Is it just me or is he acting weird?"

"Chad?" Doug examines. "Doesn't he always act weird? I mean, you complain about how back-and-forth he is all the time."

"Well, yeah," Ben begins. "But…"

After Ben makes a stumped noise Carlos comments, "He said he's trying to cut down on the morphine. Maybe it's that." Ben gives him a look. "What? You didn't know?"

"Oh. I know," he stares him down. "What I don't know is why you are telling a king, a law maker, about Chad's crime."

"Oh," Carlos slowly realizes. "Well… I just thought you would know."

"Morphine is a hard drug to quit," Mal notes. "He's probably just… not handling it well."

Ben nods, "Maybe." before he meets her green eyes. "How about you? How are you doing?"

Mal glances at Jay, "I'm getting help." before she faces him again. "But… I kind of need a reason to."

"Am I not enough?" Ben wonders.

She takes a moment, "Do I even have you?"

Ben wets his lips before touching the crest on her ring, "You will always have me."

* * *

-Posted: 12/20/2018

\- **Tzei** Thank you for the comments. They were very reassuring, and I liked how you mentioned the roof scene. I liked that scene too. Oh, and your comment on Belle, I'm happy that even if you don't currently like her that her actions can still be understood. I hate making characters do things without a reason, and I'm glad to know it got across. As far as me giving up, don't worry. I'm not. Things have just been hectic this week, because I got two interviews for a job within to days (which completely messed up my sleep and general schedule) and because I've been trying to write the chapters one day and then edit them the next, it may seem like I gave up but I haven't. I just got busy... Assuming that my background check clears and I pass orientation, I don't know how many chapters I'll be able to finish within a week; however, my goal of completing this fic by the end of the month was impossible in the first place, so I will happily keep that goal. If I don't finish it by then, then I'll finish it in January. And I will. I have to write or else I can't think about anything else and I go crazy... Seriously. I've been getting less intrusive thoughts by writing this fic. I have a theory now that if I write a memory (or a part or version of it) that I will no longer have a safety need to remember it and therefore remember it less often... Still needs further testing.

\- So, at this point in the fic I feel the need to say that not everyone who is religious is a mean person, ignorant of it or not. I know I only have two main characters who have been announced as religious and that both of them are diving deep into their beliefs right now with very little lean-way, so I really thought I should mention that I don't at all think all religious people are like that. Audrey just doesn't have many real problems of her own to deal with, so she can thank God for her perfect life. And because Chad feels like God is punishing him, he's just not very willing to be flexible with ideas right now. These things will change... eventually.


	164. Mark the Magic Mirror

**Mark the Magic Mirror**

 **(Day 131: Thursday Morning)**

"Ugh," Evie complains. "I wish Doug were here. He's so good at this stuff." The mirror offers a questions mark. "Oh. Yeah, he's out at a student council meeting. He's the treasure, in charge of the finances and paperwork."

The mirror show the word, "Help?"

Evie lets out a huge breath, "Could you?" The mirror shows the answer. "Okay. Remember, I'm going to be tested on this, so—" He shows the work in smaller print. "I don't get it." He circles part of the work. "You're still not helping."

"I should say not," the Chemistry teacher interrupts, before he snatches the mirror from the table. "I told you cheating would not be tolerated."

"I wasn't cheating," Evie insists. "It was helping me."

"By giving you the answers?" the large man supplies.

"I was just asking how to get the answer," Evie defends. "I didn't understand."

"That's what I'm here for," the brown haired teacher points out, before he holds up the mirror. "I think I'll be holding onto this."

"No," Evie stresses as she stands from her seat. "You have to give it back to me."

"No. I don't think I do." His brown eyes stares into hers, "I already gave this back to you once. If you wanted to keep it, you should have kept it out of the classroom."

"Please," she pleads.

"Don't even try to pull the waterworks on me," he proclaims. "You villains think you're crafty, but I know better. You won't be tricking me again."

"I'm not trying to trick you," Evie stresses.

"I suggest that you take a seat," he calmly continues.

"But—"

"Take a seat," he says a bit louder, "unless you feel like having a little talk with the headmistress in her office."

Evie thinks, "Could I get the mirror back if I go there?"

"No," he answers. "It will be staying with me." She looks down before he says, "Now, sit." and she does as she's commanded.

The time seems to pass slowly, as she stares up at the wall clock and taps her pencil. She has to get him alone. She has to tell the truth. It's the only way. _He's going to think you're just tricking him. You know how insecure he is._ "I have to try," Evie whispers under her breath. _You're stupid if you think he's going to give it back. You should just ask Mal to help you steal it back from him._ She shakes her head. _It's your best chance. You know it._ Evie taps the pencil faster and louder. _Just think about it. You know—_ The bell rings, and Evie breathes in relief; however, she waits for the crowd to disperse, before she walks up to the teacher's desk and takes a deep breath, "Mr. Deley."

He looks up from his papers, "Evie." She looks around and notices some blond girl is still gathering her materials. "If this is about the mirror," he tiredly begins.

"It's not just a mirror," she swiftly turns back to him.

"Yes," he accepts. "It's a magic mirror."

"No," Evie counters. "It's a witch's glass. There's a spirit in it."

"A spirit?" he narrows his eyes.

"A ghost," she shakes her head in hopelessness, before she stresses, "It's not magic. He's just really good at math and science, I needed the help, and you have to give it back."

He's quiet for a minute, "And why should I?"

Evie looks up, "Because." before she meets his eyes. "The spirit's my father."

Mr. Deley clasps his hands, "This is quite the story you've spun."

"It's not a story," Evie yells as she widens her eyes. "The spirit is my father." She grows quieter, "He's the only family I have left." before her eyes shift down. "The only one who actually cares about me, anyway." She gulps, feeling the tears fill her eyes, before she faces him again, "You have to give it back to me."

The teacher's silent for a minute, "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Please," she feels the tears fall from her eyes.

"Not until you discuss this with Fairy Godmother," he continues. "I do not know nearly enough about magic to assess this situation." He nods, "But if she deems that you should have the mirror, then I will give it back to you."

"Thank you," Evie whispers, before she watches him pick up the landline and make the phone call.

* * *

When Evie sits down in the chair the headmistress comments, "So, I hear you claim the mirror that was confiscated has your father's spirit trapped in it.

"Yes," she softly answers.

Fairy Godmother nods, "If I remember correctly, this mirror was your mother's and she had it even before she was sent to the Isle of the Lost."

"Yes," Evie answers again.

"That would make you a lot older than you are now, if the spirit trapped in it really were your father," she examines. "You mind explaining that?"

Evie looks down, "Um, yeah." and she folds her hands before looking back up at her. "My mother used a potion to prolong the earlier stages of her pregnancy."

The headmistress gasps, "She did not."

"Yes?" she furrows her eyebrows.

"That is incredibly dangerous," Fairy Godmother stresses. "The longer a pregnancy is the more likely it is that the baby— or even mother— will fail to survive."

"No. Look." Evie defends, "It's fine."

"You can't honestly believe that?" she inquires. "Not now that I've told you the risk."

Evie takes a minute, "I'm just glad to be alive." and she watches as the headmistress takes a calming breath, clasping her hands onto the desk. "My mother wouldn't have kept me. I know that. She would not have risked her chance at prosperity just to have me." She thinks, "She made the smart choice by attempting to make a good life for herself before having a child. And in the end she did sacrifice her beauty so that I could be born." Evie faces her, "My father died by stepping in front of her when the soldiers aimed at her back, and she cared enough about him to keep me." She slightly shakes her head, "Isn't that all that matters?"

Fairy Godmother frowns, "It is because of your mother's illegal activities that your life was at risk even more than anyone else who uses the kind of potion. If she had been shot, you wouldn't have even been born."

Evie's quiet for a moment, "Like I said before, she wouldn't have kept me had there been no other option. Me being born was more likely by her using that potion." The headmistress stays quiet. "Am I getting my mirror back?"

"I think you will be able to," she answers, "but I have one more question first." Evie waits for it. "Who exactly was your father?"

"He was my mother's advisor," Evie frowns. "He was dedicated to her. He loved her… far more than she loved him." She meets her dark brown eyes, "His name is Mark. He is my father." before she glances down. "And he got taken when he helped me with my homework."

"Most parents do have a hand in their children's studies," the headmistress recognizes.

"Yeah." Evie folds her arms, "I know."

"I will tell Mr. Deley to return the mirror to you." She nods down, "However. Parents are not permitted to enter classrooms. That includes yours. You understand?"

Evie nods, eyeing down in thought, before she softly responds, "I understand." She faces her again, "It that is?"

"Not quite." Fairy Godmother carefully comments, "While I have you here, I would like to know how you've been doing."

"How I've been doing?"

"With your eating disorder," she elaborates. "I must say you look a little worse for wear. Are things going okay?"

 _It's fine._ Evie's mouth hangs open, her eyes shifting in annoyance. The loud voice had interrupted her before she'd even said a syllable. "It's fine," she whispers.

"Are you sure?" the headmistress meets her eyes, and Evie looks away.

 _If you tell the truth, she's just going to shove another card in your face. Or force you to see the nurse again_. Evie looks back up at her. _Just look at her. All that flab. And her age. She doesn't even know how much looks matter nowadays. And remember all that talk about how beauty is within that she told Jane? She doesn't even want her own daughter to look beautiful._

"Evie," she addresses. "You can tell me what's wrong."

 _Nothing's wrong_. "Nothing's wrong," Evie repeats. _Just_ — "Just thinking, is all."

"What about?" she inquires.

When Evie fails to speak the voice offers a response, and she repeats it, "The school year is ending soon. What will happen to us?"

"That's up to King Ben to decide," Fairy Godmother informs.

She should have known that conversation would go nowhere. _You're missing lunch._ "I'm missing lunch," Evie recalls. "Shouldn't you be letting me leave?"

"I think you can spare five minutes," the headmistress replies. "I'd really like us to finish this conversation first."

"I don't know what to tell you," she slowly replies. _You're doing fine_. "I'm doing fine. My life is better now that I'm here."

"I'm sure it is," Fairy Godmother reassures, "but mental illness cannot be run from. An eating disorder is a disease of the mind."

 _Disease. Disease is her weight. Can you just imagine the health problems she must have_. Evie shuts her eyes and shakes her head.

"You may not want to believe it," she frowns. "But that doesn't make it any less true. You are ill. You need help."

"The only help I need," Evie stares her down, "is to stop getting advice from some middle-aged hag." Her expression immediately falters, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

It takes a minute for Fairy Godmother to ask, "What prompted you to?"

Evie's eyes shift down. _Just stressed_. She furrows he eyebrows, "She's not stupid."

"Sorry?"

Evie looks up at her in near horror, "I—" _You have to leave_. "I, uh." She looks down, feeling the tears sting her eyes.

"Evie," the headmistress quietly responds. "It's okay to admit you're not well. It's okay to ask for help."

 _You don't need help. Pretty soon you will have everything you've ever wanted. And more_. "I'll get in trouble," she whispers.

"No, you won't. No one can hurt you here."

 _You can picture it, can't you? When you walk, you won't make a sound. You will fit in anything, and everyone will love you. Mal will love you, for real_.

"Evie. You can tell me what's wrong."

She looks up at her, taking a shaky breath, as the tears fall and she quickly wipes them away. _You won't have those things if you tell her. She will be your destruction_. Evie stands, "It's been five minutes." before she turns and leaves.

* * *

\- Does anyone else get thoughts in the third person as depicted in this chapter? Just curious... Obviously not. That is the most stupid thing to say.

\- So, what do you get when you cross a fairy, a witch, and a vampire? I'm thinking a resurrection. Would anyone care if Audrey became a vampire? This would be several fics from now after she already had her own child... It would be interesting to see Mark alive. Don't you think? Not to even mention Audrey struggling between the transformation and her faith. It would be an interesting character arc, in my opinion.


	165. Distraction

**Distraction**

 **(Day 131: Thursday Night)**

"You're forgetting your role," Ben sings with a frown, before he looks up from the notebook. "I'm supposed to be the depressed one, remember?" Chad fails to respond, and Ben wets his lips before setting the mechanical pencil down onto the desk. "Okay. What is it?"

Chad's blue eyes look up at him, "I don't think God wants us to spend time together."

Ben shakes his head, "You're not making any sense."

"I know you're not a believer," Chad starts.

"No," Ben interrupts. "It's not that." He looks over him, "It's just, why would God care if we're hanging out— or working— together?"

It takes a minute for him to answer, "Because, you're a distraction."

"A distraction?"

"Yes," Chad simply says, before he becomes more nervous. "Bad things happen when I'm around you. It's a sign."

Ben brings a knuckle to his mouth in thought, before he rests his arm on the desk, "Chad." He meets his eyes, "My life's not a fairytale." before looking off. "If you can't handle the collateral damage, then I understand. But, please, do not blame this on some god."

"I'm not making an excuse," Chad sadly defends. "I want to be with you. I do. But the more we spend time together the more bad things happen, and it's not your life. It's mine. My life gets worse. It has nothing to do with you… aside that it gets worse when I am with you."

"Chad," Ben slowly comments, "sometimes coincided things are just that: coincidences."

"No," he insists. "This is different. I know it is."

Ben slightly nods, "Okay. Tell me, why do you think God is doing this?"

It takes him a moment, "I told you."

"Because I'm a distraction," he says.

Chad's mouth opens before he slowly explains, "I'm happier when I'm around you. I think about the time we spend together more than a lot of things, more than God."

Ben nods, "I get it. You can only have one man in your life."

"This isn't a joke," Chad stresses.

"I know it's not," Ben evenly responds. "So, how about you stop talking in circles and give me a straight answer so that I can help you."

"I," Chad begins, but he finds himself unable to admit to it.

"You what?" Ben softly prompts.

"I can't disobey Him again," Chad whispers. "It's been really bad when I do."

"Okay." Ben offers a stern look, "All you have told me so far is that God doesn't want you to be happy. Well, so what? Screw Him. You are the only heir to the Charmington throne, and as king of this country I say you can spend as much fucking time with whoever you damn well please." He smiles, "And, you know what? If God has a problem with that, He can take it up with me. Because, I honestly don't see how He could make my life any frickin' worse."

Chad slightly smiles, "Thank you."

Ben lets out a breath, "Yeah. Now, come on. We have kingly work to do."

* * *

The following afternoon Ben knocks on the door with the thermos, and when Evie answers he asks, "Can I see Mal?"

"She's sick," Evie warns.

"That's why I need to see her." Ben holds up the silver bottle, "I got her some soup."

She nods, "Okay." before she steps aside.

When Ben goes inside he notices Mal look at him, and he walks over to her, "How are you doing?"

"Cold," she shivers.

He glances between the sleeping bag and the heat lamp above, before he twists the cap off of the thermos, "Here. Maybe this can warm you up." He places the lid on the bedside table before pouring the soup into the cup, "I made sure to have a lot of chicken in it." and as he sets the thermos down Mal reaches for the lid; however, when she drinks from it she makes a face. "Is something wrong?"

"No." Mal makes a noise, "It's just the taste. It's—" _Rotten?_ No. She can't say that. "I'm sorry. Everything's weird right now."

"Of course," Ben realizes. "Makes sense." His eyes shift between the lamp and her again.

"I don't expect you to give me any heat," she comments.

"I would," he assures, before he wets his lips. "But I can't get sick."

"No." Mal slightly nods, "I get it." before she loudly breathes with another shiver.

"Ben," Evie says, before he turns toward her. "You should leave."

Ben merely frowns before looking back at Mal, "I love you." and after she curls up more with the sleeping bag he turns around and heads back to the door.

* * *

When Mal makes it to the dark kitchen the first thing she does is go to open the second fridge, and after the light floods the room she sees the options: bacon, steak, fish, turkey, chicken, and hamburger. She catches a glimpse of the package of square beef, before she pulls it out, walks over to the island counter, and strips the plastic away. The fresh smell calls to her, and she grabs a chuck of the pink meat. It's cold but not any colder than her, and when she shoves it into her mouth it takes her only seconds to get it down; however, something is missing. It's more slimy than it is juicy, and after she finds the flaw she goes back to the open fridge. She takes the jug out, finds a glass to pour the red liquid in, and when she brings it back to the counter she sits, staring at it in contemplation. She'd promised herself that she'd never have it, but then again she'd also promised that she'd never eat meat raw.

If Mal were back at the Isle right now, she'd be starving herself. It just seemed faster to heal that way, but now that she'd made it to the land of the plenty and Ben's shown her how good bloody meat can taste she has to at least give it a try. She brings the glass up to her lips, and she lets out a breath at the intense metallic smell. It's just like those chain necklaces she used to chew on, except that she won't accidently swallow this. She can do it purposely and so she does, before she grabs another section of the hamburger. "Mal," Evie's voice is heard, and when the light flips on Mal turns towards her. Evie walks over, assessing the situation, "Midnight cravings at the worst, aren't they?"

"It only tastes good because I'm sick," Mal excuses.

"Speaking of sick," Evie comments before going to shut the fridge door, swiftly turning back to her. "You should be in bed."

"I was hungry," Mal widens her eyes.

Evie walks up to her, "I could have easily gotten this stuff for you."

It takes Mal a minute to admit, "I didn't want you to know."

She frowns at her, "And why's that?"

Mal hesitates, "You would've seen me differently."

Evie's eyebrows furrow, before she takes a step forward, "You're afraid of me seeing you differently?" She huffs in disbelief, "M. I've seen your mother eat like this countless times. If you're worried about me seeing you differently, then you should be more worried about how you threatened my father's life."

"Afterlife," she corrects.

Evie notices her shiver, "Cold and rampantly hungry, and yet you still feel like you can talk to me like this?"

"Like what?" Mal counters.

"Like what I say doesn't mean anything," Evie shouts. "Like, that because I have feelings for you, you can just use me for whatever and then toss me out like trash."

She offers a serious look, "I don't think of you like trash."

"Well, you don't love me."

Mal stands up and leans forward to kiss her, "Tell me I don't now." and Evie silences. "Think about it," Mal seethes. "Do I treat you and Ben any differently?"

"You're cold," Evie bypasses. "We need to get you to bed."

Mal glances at the counter, "What about—"

"I'll grab it for you," she reassures, "but first we need to run you a hot bath to get you warm, and maybe if you stay in bed this time you can keep that heat longer than five minutes."

It takes Mal a moment to say, "Thank you."

Evie sighs, "You're welcome." before they exit the kitchen.


	166. The Homosexuals

**The Homosexuals**

 **(Day 133: Saturday Night)**

"There he is," Chad calls out after Brent opens the door and Ben walks in. "I was starting to think you weren't going to come."

"Still not a hundred percent," Ben frowns. "Maybe you could speak a little slower?"

"Sure," he agrees before motioning him over. "Come on. Take a seat."

Ben steps toward the round table, looking over the three guys, and then he watches as the buff blond sits back down. "I can't actually… like, make bets or anything."

"Why not?" William questions.

Ben looks toward the slender blond, but before he can speak Hayden points out, "He used to have meat piled onto his tray, but now he doesn't even eat it." Ben's mouth slightly gapes at the apparent obviousness of both his meat eating and discontinuance of it. "Maybe he's converting to Islam."

"I thought that was just pork," Brent comments.

"But isn't pepperoni pork?" Chad rebuttals. "Aziz eats that."

"Well, yeah," William smiles, "but he's not supposed to."

"Okay. Look," Ben interrupts, and they face him. "I'm not turning to anything. My mother just thinks a king shouldn't break the law."

"It's just making bets," Chad comments. "Everyone does it. Even just something like seeing which student is better at something and giving them a sucker as a reward would be gambling. It's not that big of a deal."

"My mother thinks it is," Ben continues to frown.

"And do you do everything your mom tells you to?" William counters.

"A lot of the time, yes," he sternly remarks, before he watches Chad get up from his seat and walk over to him. He feels Chad lift the hair from near his ear, and he narrows his eyes as feels the fingers move to the back of his neck. "Chad. What are you doing?"

"Looking for a number," Chad smiles, before he pulls the back of the t-shirt down. "I want to make sure you're the Ben I ordered."

"Oh, fuck off," Ben irritably swats his hand away, and when he turns toward him Chad can't help but laugh. "You think this is funny?"

Chad tries to keep his smile small as he looks over him, "You should see your face right now."

"Okay." Ben glances down, "I showed my face." before he tilts his head at him. "And now I'm going."

When Ben turns back to the door Chad steps in front of him and places a hand on his shoulder, "Come on. Stay."

"Chad," Ben sighs. "I really don't feel like it."

"Please," he slowly retorts.

Ben smiles, "That's not going to work."

"What?"

"You know what," he counters. "You think you can just smile and get anyone to do anything, but you are wrong." He takes a step back, and Chad's hand falls back to his side. "I'm going now."

When Ben walks past him Chad twists around, "Catch you later." and when he goes back to take his seat he frowns, finding the others looking at him. "What?"

"You were like all over him," Brent points out.

"You mean that number thing?" Chad furrow his brows. "I was just teasing him."

"And how about how you had your hand on his shoulder for an entire minute," Hayden puts forth.

Chad gives him a look, "You're not helping."

"Go on," he nearly smiles. "Tell them about that man-crush of yours."

Chad's mouth gapes as his eyes narrow, "Are you clinically diagnosed?"

"Sociopaths only get diagnosed if they break the law," Hayden quickly informs before pointing towards the others. "Go on. Tell them."

When Chad turns to them William questions, "You like Ben?" and when Chad fails to speak he hums. "That explains the moisturizer."

"Well," Brent leans back, "I'm on the other side of the locker room, so I don't have anything to worry about."

Chad gives William a look, "When I'm a hundred, I want to look like I'm still forty. Sorry if you don't." before he turns to Brent and shakes his head. "And you. Just because I just might like Ben, that doesn't mean I like every guy. Get over yourself."

"What about Audrey?" William inquires. "Do you even like her?"

"I do," Chad slowly states.

"But?" he prompts.

Chad meets his blue eyes, "I think I might like Ben more." before he shakes his head with a frown. "Not that it matters. He has a girlfriend, so… yeah."

"So, if you could be with Ben," Brent questions, "then you wouldn't be with Audrey?"

He meets his light brown eyes, "You're completely forgetting I'm the only heir to my kingdom's throne."

"So, let's make it easier," Hayden proclaims, and Chad looks back at him. "If you had to choose between your girlfriend Audrey setting aside her views on oral sex permanently or your good friend Ben to have a one-night stand with you, which would you pick?"

"Wait." Chad lifts a hand, "So, it would be between my girlfriend offering blowjobs before marriage as many times as I wish or one time with Ben doing more?"

"You're afraid to say sex," he notices.

"Well. It's weird," Chad excuses. "I mean, if it only happens once, then what? The next time we hang out we just toss around a ball or play videogames, like it never even happened?"

"That's what a one-night stand is," Brent voices.

It takes Chad a moment, "I don't know what I would pick, but for the sake of not making everything completely fucking weird… Yeah. Audrey."

"But you've fantasized about having sex with Ben before, haven't you?"

Chad gives Hayden a look, "Why can't you be like normal adrenaline junkies and just ride some frickin' motorcycle?"

"Because I'm not an adrenaline junkie and I don't see the fun in riding some metal machine," he immediately answers.

Chad sighs, "Okay." before he turns to the others. "It's something I try not to think about, but, you know, when you try not to think about something…"

"It's a fine line between not thinking about something and thinking about it," his roommate inputs.

"I probably don't want to know," William begins, "but how often do you think about the more… the sex?"

"Not as often as just kissing and things," Chad mulls it over, "but there is this one thing that I imagine a lot." He shifts in his seat, "So, it's lunch time and Ben and me are in the bathroom stall just doing it, and he's just receiving the best pleasure ever, right? He's breathing hard, says my name, and then the door is heard so I cover his mouth so that he won't give us away. And then, when the door is heard again I let go, we finish up, and when we exit the stall there's two people there." Chad smiles, "Now, I make some excuse about how he was just checking out a freckle, at which point he has to give me the most amazing irritable look and complain about how he's tried telling me pre-med is like the only classes he's not taking."

"Thanks for leaving out the details," William sarcastically responds.

Chad makes a face, "That was without the details."

"So, in your fantasy," Brent realizes, "you get caught."

He shrugs, "I guess."

"And in the bathroom too," William catches on. "You couldn't do it here?" He glances over at the beds, "Not that I would want you to, but it would be less risky."

"No. Look." Chad explains, "I have no idea how I convinced Ben into the bathroom with me, but it's better to go somewhere close. If I'd have had us go all the way to the dorms, then he could have chickened out."

"So, that's how you get laid," Hayden smirks. "You get the job done before the other person can change their mind."

"Wait," Brent interrupts. "You've had sex?"

"I have never had sex with a girl," Chad swiftly answers, before he quickly continues, "And this whole thing with Ben doesn't even matter. He's king and it's illegal, so that fantasy is just going to have to stay that: a fantasy."

"Of course you've never had sex with a girl," Hayden buds in. "It was a guy."

Chad narrows his eyes at him, "Are you looking to get hit?"

"Sure." He smiles, "You can add battery to your sexual misconduct."

Chad sighs before frowning back at the others, "You guys don't care, do you? I mean we're already doing something illegal here." before he lifts the poker chips and listens to the clink as he lets them fall one by one.

"If you're talking about the punch," William carefully answers, "then I'd rather you didn't, but as far as your sexuality is concerned… really none of my concern."

When Chad looks at Brent his unsureness is apparent in his expression, "Aren't homosexuals sexually repressed? I mean, there's only so few of them."

He notices his eyes shift away, "What's your question?"

"Well, I mean," he hesitates, "you hear about all of those stories where the homosexuals lose control of themselves."

"First off," Chad sternly interrupts, "I'm pretty sure at least half of those would just be people turning on their partners, because they don't want to get charged too." He pauses, "And secondly, I am attracted to girls… not that girls are that open to sex either. It's either they're from a religious family who taught them abstinence or they have a science interest that's caused them to be overly careful, but based on your logic it shouldn't be an issue."

Brent nods, "Okay." before he offers a curious expression. "Who was that other homosexual you were talking about?"

"The other homosexual?" Chad unsurely repeats.

"The guy you had sex with," he elaborates.

Chad sighs, "Look. I'm not looking to get anyone in trouble."

"I won't tell," Brent reassures, before Chad looks over at William and he nods in agreement.

"Okay," Chad takes a breath. "Carlos De Ville."

"That skinny defender?" William disbelieves. Chad merely nods. "You think you know a guy." He turns to Brent, "I thought he was one of those people who get married to their work."

"Yeah," Brent agrees. "He doesn't seem like the sex type. He's too shy for that."

"More like quiet," Chad disagrees, "but yeah." He gives Brent a look, "I guess the homosexuals aren't as low in population as you thought."

Brent takes a moment, "Did I offend you or something?"

"It's gay," Chad remarks, "not homosexual. And it's not the gays either." He shakes his head, "What if someone called straight people the breeders?"

He shrugs, "I'm proud to be a breeder. It means my genes will survive me. I get to live forever in a way."

Chad furrows his eyebrows, "You sound like one of those guys who does anal with a girl and then slips it in the other hole to purposely spread their seed."

"I'm not," Brent plainly states, and after a brief silence he lets out a breath, "Look. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Don't worry." Chad sarcastically counters, "I'm bi. You only insulted half of my sexuality." before he widens his eyes at him. "You do know what bi is, right?"

"I thought that was just girls," he comments, "like romantic interaction."

"It wouldn't be called bisexuality if it didn't involve sexual activity," Chad points out. "As far as emotional attachment goes… I have an easier time connecting with guys, I think, but that's probably just because I am a guy and can relate better." Neither of them speak, and he shakes his head, "Aren't we supposed to be playing?"

"Yes," William says as he picks up his cards and moves on. "Where were we?"


	167. Sweet

**Sweet**

 **(Day 134: Sunday Afternoon)**

When Evie walks into the kitchen Ben watches as she goes over to the second fridge, pulling out the jug of red liquid, "What are you doing?"

"When people are sick they get healthy cravings," Evie evenly remarks, before she pours some into a bowl and takes it to the microwave.

Ben watches her put the blood away, "That's for Mal?"

"Yeah." She turns to him, "Why?"

"I just didn't think Mal drank blood," he slowly answers.

"She never did." Evie smiles, "You're a good influence on her."

"Influence," he repeats with a frown.

"You made her eat rare steak, and now she's willing to eat right," Evie informs, before she goes back to the microwave. "Oh." She take the bowl out, "That's why."

"What's why?"

She goes to find a butter knife, "I saw a vampire cooking and he was stirring the blood on the stove." before she breaks through the skin. "A film built on top." She looks at Ben, "The top of the blood turned solid. That must be why he was using the stove." Ben doesn't speak, "Sorry. Am I speaking slow enough?"

"Yeah," Ben answers as he tilts his head. "I was just thinking that I could have told you that it would do that."

"Then, why didn't you?"

He lifts a shoulder, "I didn't feel like it."

Evie opens the fridge again to find some ground hamburger, "So." and she scoops a chunk into the bowl before shutting the fridge again and turning to Ben. "I see you are eating all my cookies." She walks up to him as he stares down at the pile with a gaped mouth, saying, "It would have been nice for you to save some for the other students." before he can get a word in.

He looks back at her with an awkward smile, "I was hungry." before he glimpses the bowl of pink meat and rich red juice. He breathes and recognizes the sweet scent.

"Want some?"

Ben swiftly look back up at her, "What?"

She smiles, "You were staring."

Ben glances at it again, wetting his lips, before meeting her dark brown eyes, "I just don't get how Mal can eat it. It's completely gross."

"When a carnivore hunts in the wild," Evie points out, "when they eat meat it's raw and has blood in it." She looks him over, "Don't act like it's so weird." He opens his mouth to speak but sighs instead, before she looks back at the plate of cookies, "Are you enjoying those?"

He smiles, "Yeah."

"Good," she smiles back. "That vampire I mentioned before, he suggested that I change the recipe."

Ben's smile falls as the cookie slips from his fingers, "What?"

Evie grins, "Yeah. He said it needed more protein and iron and sooo I added more chocolate."

He breathes in relief, "Chocolate."

"That's a lot of chocolate," Evie glances at the cookies again. "You must be really low on protein and iron to be craving so many of them."

"I just wanted them," Ben excuses. "I didn't, like, need them."

"Hmm," she hums before going to grab a spoon. "Enjoy them. I need to get this to Mal before it gets cold." Ben watches as Evie leaves the kitchen, before he stands from his seat, goes to toss the bitten cookie away, and puts the rest back in the container.

* * *

When Ben enters the dining room his father smiles, "Hey. Someone got their sling off."

Ben stares at him for a long moment, before his mother comments, "Come sit. Dinner has already been served."

Ben does as he's asked, and as he looks over the meal he places a lot of cheesy potatoes onto his plate next to some stuffing. He takes a bite of the potatoes, noticing his parents watching him intently; however, the comment he waits for doesn't come, and his mother smiles. "Why are you so happy?"

"I'm just glad to see you," she answers, before she takes a bite of the mixed vegetables. "How was your week?"

"Well," he pauses. "I got my sling off, so that's something."

"You must be very happy about it," she comments.

"Yes." Ben frowns, "But I still have a whole year for it to fully heal, so…" He glimpses his father, "Yeah." before he digs into the stuffing.

"What else happened this week?" his father continues on.

Ben sighs, "Well, as you are already aware, Mal is sick."

His father hums, "I heard about that."

"I wish I could do something for her," he quietly responds.

"Honey," his mother sadly tenses. "You know you can't."

"There's no guarantee that I'll get sick," he faces her.

"But if you do," his father points out, "you'll end up back in the hospital." He stabs the fork into the turkey. "We can't have that."

"I know," he whispers as he pushes the potatoes around. "I just wish I could, you know. It sucks that I have the highest body temperature anyone can survive, and I can't even offer it to something who could literally be freezing to death."

"Surely, it's not that bad," his mother chimes in.

Ben lifts a shoulder, "I don't know… Evie knows about my problems, so she made sure to push me out of the room before I even had a minute to talk to Mal." His parents merely give each other a look, and Ben begins on the potatoes again.

"Well, it's not like we're lacking resources," his mother starts. "Why don't you buy something to help her?"

"She already has a heat lamp and a sleeping bag," Ben mumbles. "What could I possibly give her to help?"

"A tanning bed?" she suggests.

Ben sighs, "Don't those cause cancer?"

It takes a minute for his mother to respond, "I just want you to know she's okay so that you can focus on yourself. When people get depressed their appetite can lower, and you already have enough problems with eating the way it is. I would hate to think—"

"Mother," Ben interrupts, before he meets her brown eyes. "I don't know what to tell you. If I say I'm fine, you cry. If I don't talk, you'll continue to worry. And…" He shakes his head, "I'm not willing to say I'm going to die just because of some irrational fear." He looks down, "No. That's not right." before he faces her again. "Because of some intense feeling of things just being so wrong."

His parents give each other another look, before his father frowns at him, "Before you think about leaving the table, maybe you'd like to have desert."

Ben looks around, "Where is it?" His mother hands him a small bowl of black, clumpy paste. "What is it?"

"It's pudding," she immediately says before continuing her main dish.

"What is it, chocolate?" he questions, but his parents fail to answer. He smells it a couple times before thinking aloud, "It smells sweet."

"Well, most puddings are sweet, honey," his mother tries to smile.

Ben picks up on her breathing, and he sets the bowl down before furrowing his eyebrows at her, "I don't believe this."

"Honey," she tries to calm him down.

"You tried to trick me," he yells.

"I just thought if you liked it," she begins.

"That what?" Ben interrupts. "That I'd eat more of it?"

"Would you just eat something?" his father stresses, and when Ben turns to him he swears he can see tears in his eyes. "Please."

Ben slowly shakes his head, "Fuck you." before he motions a hand over the table. "Fuck all of this."

When he stands up his mother pleads, "Honey."

"No," he glares at her. "I trusted you." His expression softens as he sighs, "Maybe I shouldn't have."

After he starts to leave she calls out, "Ben." but he ignores her and steps down the stairs.

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Audrey breaks up with Chad, Carlos is told about Jay's girlfriend, and Evie ends up in the hospital.


	168. Highs and Lows

**Highs and Lows**

 **(Day 134: Sunday Night)**

Chad keeps his arm over Audrey's shoulders as they enter the movie theater, and when they get in line for the candy counter he moves in to kiss her. She half laughs, "I thought you didn't like public displays of affection." before she looks into his blue eyes and notices the thin iris around the enlarged pupils.

He smiles, "People change." before Audrey's expression falters and she pulls him over to the corner of the lobby. "Whoa. What's going on?"

She furiously whispers, "Are you seriously high right now?"

Chad makes a face, "I may have needed a boost."

"A boost?" Audrey disbelieves, as she looks over him. "You're completely out of it."

"Come on," he prompts. "We're supposed to be relaxing and having fun."

"I'm your girlfriend," she sternly reminds him. "You shouldn't need to get high to go on a date with me."

"It's not about you," he frowns.

"Then what is it about?"

His eyes shift, "I just needed it."

"But you don't need it," she counters, before placing her hands on his arms. "You have me. You have God. That's more than enough."

Chad pauses, "I don't think it is."

"Then you just need to try harder," she insists. "Deep down you have the will to be good and get past these impurities. I know it."

"Maybe that's it," Chad comes to realize, before he meets her sad eyes. "I don't have the will. I'm not strong enough."

Audrey moves her hands down to his, "But I have enough will for the both of us. I can help you. You just need faith, and you need to try."

"I've been trying," he mumbles.

"If you were really trying," Audrey counters, "then you would be healed by now." Chad lets go of her hands, and she lets out a loud breath. "You've got a choice to make." She faces him, "Either stop the drugs and let me help or I won't be with you anymore."

Chad slowly shakes his head, "You can't do that."

"This hasn't just been hard on you," Audrey fumes. "I've put so much time and energy in just trying to support and pray for you, but if you're not willing to do just as much…" She shakes her head and mutters, "Then I can't be with you." Chad looks down. "So, what will it be?"

He feels the tears enter his eyes as her faces her, "You can't just make me choose."

"It's simple." She reasons, "You're either choosing desires of the flesh or you are choosing me and the Lord."

"I can't choose," he stresses.

"Then I'll choose for you," Audrey counters, before she walks away and Chad watches in motionless as she exits the theater.

* * *

When Doug opens the door a black haired guy comments, "Hey. Is Ben here?"

"Why?" he questions.

"I need his help."

When Ben walks to the door he meets the guy's grey eyes, "You need me?"

"Yeah." Hayden furrows his eyebrows, "So, Chad's been making me altra uncomfortable."

Ben straightens up, "How so?"

"You know," he bypasses. "He's just really sappy and stuff. Something about him and his girlfriend breaking up." He raises his eyebrows, "So. I was thinking you could help out your fellow human being and make him stop for me."

"How?" Ben asks.

"Talk to him or something," he solves.

"And you can't do that?" Doug inputs.

Hayden gives him a look, "I'll just make it worse. Trust me."

"I have no problem helping," Ben reassures, before he offers a curious expression, "But why me?"

"He likes you," Hayden immediately answers. "So, why not you?"

Ben sighs, "I'll take care of it." before he steps past him and goes over to Chad's room. He knocks; however, after a couple tries and a few minutes there's still no response, so he turns the doorknob and goes inside. He sees Chad laying on the bed and shuts the door, "Hey." before he starts walking over to him. "I heard about—" Chad's eyes are shut. "Chad?" Ben takes a few more steps, noticing the open pill bottle on the bedside table before swiftly turning back to him and shaking his arm in panic, "Chad." He makes a disgruntled noise as he slowly opens his eyes. "God." Ben lets go of him. "I thought you were dead."

Chad smiles, "Hey. What's up?"

"What up?" Ben disbelieves. "What's with the pills? I thought you were trying to quit."

Chad turns his head towards the orange bottle and begins to frown, "I was."

"Then what happened?" Ben sighs.

He looks off, "Life."

Ben sits on the bed, "I heard about Audrey."

Chad recalls, "She said I had to choose between her and these."

He sees Chad point to the bottle, before he shakes his head, "You've been using them for months. You can't just quit."

"Audrey thinks I can," Chad reminisces, before he takes a long breath. "I told her everything… and now." He smiles at Ben, "And now I have you."

"Is there anything I can do?" Ben quietly questions.

Chad slightly laughs, "You're the best. You know that?"

"I'm not the best," he slowly dismisses.

"No. Seriously." Chad shuts his eyes, "I love you, man."

"I don't like how shallow your breathing is," Ben worries. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital."

"No," he softly states. "I'm fine. Everything is all fine."

It takes a minute for Ben to ask, "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Chad whispers before taking his hand. "You're the only one… Stay with me."

"Okay," Ben evenly replies.

There's another long silence, before Chad comments, "Maybe Audrey was right. If I'd just… This isn't right."

"The choice she gave you wasn't even a choice," Ben defends.

"Yeah." He takes a breath, "But I do a lot of things. I want things I shouldn't."

Ben lifts a shoulder, "That's just part of being… alive."

"If I ask you a really weird question," Chad comments, "then would you be honest?"

"I would like to think so." Chad fails to ask it. "What is it?"

"Do you ever think about people," he begins. "Like, people you shouldn't. In ways you're not supposed to?"

Immediately, Ben's mind flashes to his mother, "More than I'd care to admit."

"Where do you see us in ten years?"

Ben thinks, "Well, you'll be off playing pro tourney and getting a masters in either health or linguistics."

"No," Chad interrupts. "I mean, us. Do you think we'll still be… friends?"

"I'd like to think so."

Chad looks up into his hazel green eyes, "Ben."

"Yes?"

He slightly smiles, "You are the absolutely only good thing in my life."

Ben takes a deep breath, "It will get better." before glancing down. "I promise you that."

* * *

\- **Danifan3000** I agree it would be super confusing for her, but because vampires are legally humans who have a disease, her biggest anxiety would probably be whether she's going to keep her soul or if the disease is going to slowly chip away at it. I feel like by the time this happens she would be more tolerant to hybrids/otherkin, maybe thinking that even though they seem to have no control over themselves that she understands that they do try to be good and not just go on random murder sprees. As far as the cure goes, as stated earlier the vampires in this fic exist because of a retrovirus. And, actually, the vampires are going to be a little less based on lore vampire and a little more based on real life vampires (although, probably more extreme), so the vampires are just heat and light sensitive, which causes them to tire easily or get sick during the day (if they try to be awake), and their diet is more carnivorous... Funny thing about that. There are some people who claim to be vampires that say they can live off a single tablespoon of blood a week, and there's this huge debate between sanguinarian vampires and psychic vampire as to whether blood is actually essential or just another form of energy to harness. Another debate is how to spell vampire. I think it was that in America vampire referred to real vampires and vampyres referred to lore vampires, and overseas vampyres was for real ones and vampires were for fake ones... Anyway, the vampires in this series will not burst into flames, they will not be affected by crosses (aside maybe a little peeved about that line in the Bible that says drinking blood is a sin, no matter the source), and although they may age slower they are in no way immortal... Dragons live a lot longer (not in real life, I think)... Right. I was talking about the cure... I don't think there would be one, even by the time Audrey would be turned. If I'm remembering correctly, a retrovirus can change DNA (which means that even if there was a vaccine of some sort to kill off the virus, the damage would already be done) and because I read it's generally hard to deal/find retrovirus until they affect a host, it would be fairly easy for her to get infected by lets say... something goes wrong during a surrogate birth, and the blood they use for transfusion just so happened to carry that virus... which would probably cause a couple people around her to blame the fact that she carried a child for a gay couple to be the reason that she turned into that... whatever a bigoted, religious person would call a vampire. So, yeah. Fun all around.

\- 12/23/2018


	169. I Hate You

**I Hate You**

 **(Day 135: Monday Afternoon)**

"Must be hard," Carlos comments, as he and Chad sit on the bench. "What happened with you and Audrey."

"Yeah," he raises he eyebrows. "It sucks." He takes a sip of Gatorade, "I mean, everyone's got someone, and now I don't."

"Not everyone," Carlos denies.

"Are you kidding?" Chad disbelieves. "Everyone on the team's dating someone, half of them cheerleaders, and the ones who aren't dating are getting plenty of action on the side."

"So, this is about not getting any action," he surmises.

"No," Chad huffs. "It really isn't."

"Then, what?"

He lets out a breath, "It's just, I've always had someone is some way. And now I don't, and yet everyone else does. Hell. Some people around here even have more than one person."

"You're talking about Mal," Carlos realizes.

"She already had Evie," he fumes. "I really don't get why she needed Ben too."

"So, this is about Ben now," Carlos assumes.

"No," Chad asserts. "This is about how there's some people who are involved with multiple people, while I have no one at all. And it's not just her. There's also Jay with you and his girlfriend." He shakes his head, "What is it about you VKs that makes you do that kind of thing? Trust issues or something?"

"You mean hookup," Carlos corrects, and Chad offers a confused look. "Jay doesn't date. He just hooks up with people."

"You sure?" Chad raises an eyebrow. "'Cause I saw them at the dance together." He recalls, "And at the theater once."

Carlos's mouth gapes, before he sternly asks, "Are you sure?"

Chad nods, "Yeah." and then Carlos huffs as he stands from the bench. "Hey. Where're you going?"

When Carlos enters back into the locker room he strides towards Jay and pushes him, but Jay is only forced back a step. "When were you going to tell me?"

Jay frowns, "Tell you what?"

"That you have a girlfriend," Carlos yells.

It takes a moment for Jay to say, "That's not a secret."

"No. Of course, not," Carlos furrows his brows. "You just decided that everyone should know but me."

"I didn't think it was important," he excuses.

"You're dating someone," Carlos counters. "How is that not frickin' important?"

"Would you just calm down?" Jay calmly replies.

"No." He widens his eyes, "You should have told me."

"I've never had to tell you about my hookups before," Jay retorts.

"Well, she's not a hookup, is she?" Carlos asserts. "You have a girlfriend."

Jay shakes his head, "I don't get it. Why do you care so much about this?"

"Because, I," Carlos strongly begins, before he notices the crowd of eyes watching them. "I—" He meets Jay's brown eyes and sadly breathes, "I hate you."

It takes a minute for Jay to respond, "I didn't know you felt that way." before he thinks. "I guess I've always kind of hated you too." He lets out a breath and places a hand on Carlos's shoulder, "But we're in Auradon now. We have a clean slate here."

Carlos takes a step back, Jay's hand falling back to his side, as he bares his teeth, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," he slowly answers, "that maybe we should spend a little less time hating each other and start finding our own happinesses."

"What if I don't want to be happy?" Carlos shakily breathes. "What if I just want to hate you?"

"It wouldn't change anything," Jay concludes.

Carlos shakes his head, "You've been with girls before." He furrows his eyebrows, as he tries to keep the tears at bay, "You've never asked for us not to be friends before."

"I've never had a serious relationship before."

After a few seconds Carlos yells, "I hate you."

"I know," Jay continues to frown, before Carlos shakes his head, turns around, and paces towards the hall.

When he enters the dimmer space he hears a voice say, "Wait. Carlos." before he feels the hand on his shoulder turn around, he glimpses the black hair and brown hairs, and moves forward to kiss him.

"Whoa." A hand is placed on his chest to stop him, before Aziz comments, "I understand you're upset, but you can't just kiss the first person you see."

Carlos gulps, shutting his eyes and shaking his head, "Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." before he hurries to the metal, double doors.

"Carlos. Hold on," Aziz shouts again, but he ignores him and leaves instead.

* * *

When Evie opens the door she notices the black backpack straps over his shoulders, "Carlos?"

"Hey." He hesitates, "I was wondering if I could crash here for a couple nights?"

Evie looks back into the room, "M. What you think?"

"Sure. Why not?" Mal answers. Evie smiles and steps aside, before Carlos enters the room and she shuts the door. "So. What happened?"

Carlos notices Mal doing homework on the bed, "You seem better."

"Getting there," Mal immediately responds before hurrying on. "Now. Are you going to tell us what's up or not?"

Carlos glances down at the blue carpet, "I think Jay just kind of broke up with me."

"You two weren't really together in the first place," Mal reminds him.

"Hence the kind of," Carlos frowns.

Evie goes to sit on Mal's bed, "Do you know why?"

Carlos looks off, "Probably because I found out he has a girlfriend." before he faces them. "Did you guys know?" Evie and Mal give each other a look. "Oh." He pauses, "Okay."

"He just didn't think you would react the greatest," Evie explains.

"And I'm guessing he was right," Mal adds on.

"They've been going out for weeks," Carlos sadly defends. "This entire time, and he just hid it from me. Purposely."

"I told him he should tell you," Evie lets him know, "but I didn't want to say anything if he wasn't going to."

Carlos slightly nods, "I get that." before he meets her eyes. "It's fine."

"Was he supposed to tell you?" Mal wonders. "Like, is that a rule you guys have?"

"No," Carlos slowly mumbles. "But this wasn't just some hookup. He should have."

Mal mulls it over, "Yeah." before she faces him. "He probably should have." She looks at Evie, "Since they made it official and everything."

* * *

"Do you know where Carlos is?" Jay questions when Mal opens the door.

"He's here," she frowns. "He's staying for a while."

"He skipped practice," he lets her know.

"Hmm," Mal's eyes shift. "I wonder why."

"He told you," Jay frowns.

"Of course, he did." She shakes her head, "One minute he was fine and the next— just a complete mess." Mal gives him a stern look, "You hurt him Jay. And not in a good way."

"That thing wasn't even supposed to turn into a thing in the first place," he huffs.

"Maybe not," Mal agrees, "but he obviously thought of you as more. It's your fault you completely ignored it, gave him his every desire, and then completely dropped him."

"He said he didn't care if it was a casual thing," Jay reminds her. "This isn't my fault. If he'd just been honest—"

"People lie," Mal shouts, "and they especially lie when they know the alternative is not getting even a remote amount of the thing they want." She attempts a calming breath, "You gave him pain. That kind of thing creates a bond, good or bad. You should've known that."

"He thought the other stuff was boring," Jay counters, "and it's not like I wanted to."

Mal's quiet for a minute, "I think you need to stop taking this so personally."

"Stop taking it personally?" Jay fumes. "How can I when it's about me?"

"Because it isn't about you," she argues. "You have a girlfriend, you're the best player on the tourney team, and you've made friends other than him. You have a hell of a life right now. His is the one that got completely torn apart when the only person he spends any real time with said they could no longer be a thing."

"He spends time with Jane," Jay softly disagrees.

"The headmistress's daughter?" Mal raises an eyebrow. "Do you really think he'd actually be able to tell her about you? Why he's sad? That little mouse would squeak to her mother the moment she heard about you two."

Jay's quiet for a minute, "I didn't mean to hurt him."

"Well, you did," Mal continues in sternness, before she lets out a large breath. "I think we're done here."

"What about tonight?" Jay softly questions.

"I think I'll pass," Mal stares him down. "There's no time to drink anyway. I have to clean up your mess."

Jay nods, "Okay." and they face each other for a long moment before she shuts the door.

* * *

\- This is one of those chapters I've had planned since about the beginning, and I'm so glad I was finally able to write it. It's just so sad, and I love it.


	170. Sorry

**Sorry**

 **(Day 136: Tuesday Morning)**

After the alarm continues Mal mumbles, "Evie. Your phone's going off." but there's no response and the tone still doesn't stop. Mal opens her eyes and leans up, "Evie." before she shakes her. "Hey." She doesn't move, and Mal shakes her harder in panic, "Evie."

Carlos groans before looking over at them, "What's going on?"

"She's not waking up," Mal stresses.

"Stop touching her," he urges in realization.

"Oh, God." Mal backs off from her and stands from the bed.

Carlos rushes over to Evie and touches her arm, "She's freezing."

"She's alive, though. Right?" Mal asserts.

Carlos takes a moment to place a hand near Evie's mouth to check for breathing, before he notices her slight movement, "Yes."

"We need to help her, get her to the hospital," Mal worries. She widens her eyes at him, "Get Doug or someone." Carlos doesn't say a word before hurrying off.

When Carlos gets to Doug's dorm he knocks hard on the door, and after only a few seconds he does it again. Doug opens it, "Carlos?"

"It's Evie," he rushes. "She's hypothermic."

Doug quickly turns to Ben, "Get your driver for me."

"Why?" Ben frowns.

"I'll tell you later," he quickly responds. "Please."

Ben offers a confused look, "Okay." before he goes to get his phone.

Doug turns back to Carlos, "Where is she?" before Carlos leads him to the girls' floor and they enter Evie's room. Doug notices Mal sitting on the end of the bed, tears fallen to her face. He lets out an acknowledging breath, before he watches Carlos go up to Evie.

"She's here." Doug follows him, and he pauses only a moment to take in her pale skin and limited movement. If he didn't know better, she could be dead. "Do you need help?" Carlos questions, before Doug removes the rest of the blanket, moves one arm beneath her back, and then lifts her before moving his other beneath her legs. He turns around, her body seeming to be effortlessly held in his arms, and Carlos looks over them, "I guess not."

* * *

When Mal enters the room she notices Evie lying under the electric blanket on the hospital bed. Doug frowns at her, "You could have came sooner."

Mal's quiet for a moment, "I had a court-ordered class to attend."

"Right," he recalls. "Sorry."

She goes to sit in the chair next to his, before she stares back at Evie, "I still can't believe I did this to her."

"Yeah. Neither can I," Doug replies, but when he turns to see her shameful expression he continues, "It's not entirely your fault, though."

"No," Mal disagrees. "You're right. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for me." She sadly laughs, "You blame me, don't you?"

He bobbles his head from one side to the other in contemplation, "Am I a little peeved that my girlfriend's best friend slept with her and turned her into a popsicle." He looks back at Mal, "Yes. I am."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am," she expresses. "This has never happened before. If I knew—"

"I know," Doug interrupts. "You care about her." He looks back at Evie, "And I know she cares about you too."

When Doug looks back at her Mal notices his eyes move towards the door, and Mal's eyes soon follow. Ben shuffles inside before shutting the door, "Hey."

"How did you know we were here?" she asks.

"I told him," Doug answers, and Mal quickly looks back at him.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ben wonders.

Mal looks at the floor, unable to speak, so Doug answers for her, "The nurses say she'll be okay. It's just going to take a while."

"Good," Ben nods, before he gives Mal an intense look, "Because, we need to talk."

Doug stands and softly comments, "I'm just going to use the bathroom." as he points to the exit. "Yeah."

After letting Doug pass, Ben glares at Mal, "You slept with her, didn't you?"

"Carlos was using the other bed," she evenly defends.

"We had rules," Ben sternly reminds her. "What other ones have you broken?"

"We just slept in the same bed," Mal bypasses.

"After what?" Ben accuses, "Making out with her?"

"Not this time," she mumbles.

Ben wets his lips as he nods, "This time." before he shakes his head in disbelief.

"There are worse things," Mal tries to reason.

"Worse things?" Ben exasperates. "You might as well say you didn't even do it for heat." She looks away, and his mouth gapes, "You've been with her just to be with her."

Mal swiftly faces him, before she sighs, "It's not like that."

"I can't believe this," Ben mutters, before he yells, "You've been cheating on me."

"It's not like I had sex with her," she defends with wide eyes.

"And that makes it okay?" Ben steps forward, "This is Auradon." and he glances down in remembrance. "You just told me you get that when people are together it's about more than sex." He shakes his head, "So, how could you think this is okay?"

"That's here," Mal asserts. "That's with you, but on the Isle people go all the way all the time. So, sorry if I'm not sorry for getting a little close to my best friend."

"Have you ever gone all the way?" Ben accuses.

"What?" Mal's eyebrows furrow in disbelief.

"You heard me," Ben sucks on his bottom lip before turning his head up. "Have you gone all the way before?"

Mal sadly grins, but the laughter doesn't escape her. She gulps, "You know I have."

It takes a minute for Ben's expression to fully change, before he places a hand to his forehead in regret, "Mal. I'm so sorry. I forgot."

She yells, "Forgot? How the hell do you forget about something like that?"

"Mal," he says again.

"No." She grits her teeth, "Tell me. How? I would love to know how to forget it."

"I don't know," Ben glances down, before he meets her shiny, green eyes and pleads, "Please, Mal. I'm so sorry."

A disgruntled breath comes from the hospital bed, and both Ben and Mal look over before Evie tiredly glares at Ben, "You should leave."

Ben takes one last sorry glance at his girlfriend, but Mal is too focused on Evie to watch him leave. Instead, she stands up and races over to her side, "Eves. You're awake." She instinctually reaches for her hand, but at the last second she has enough sense to pull it back. "How are you?"

Evie takes in her surroundings, "Where am I?"

* * *

When Ben enters the castle he hears the laughter and walks to the back of the foyer, before he sees his parents out on the patio. He frowns, steadily stepping forward, before they notice him, grow quiet, and he slides open the glass door. The round, white table is filled with cold cuts, cheeses, and a scented candle. "Sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," his mother smiles.

Ben looks at his father in unsureness, before he gestures, "Take a seat."

When Ben sits down he looks down at the woven table, watching as he folds his hands under it. His parents don't speak, and it takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, "Evie's in the hospital." He looks between them. "She has hypothermia."

"What happened?" his father questions.

Ben gives him a look, "What do you think happened?" before he lowers his head, lets out a breath, and shakes his head.

"Are you saying it was Mal?" his mother calmly asks.

It takes a moment for him to say, "Apparently she and Evie shared the same bed last night, something went wrong." He looks up at his mother, "I accused her of cheating."

"What did she say?" she inquires.

"She said that at least they didn't have sex." His eyes lower, "Seemed pretty unapologetic about it, actually."

"That doesn't seem fair," his father inputs.

Ben sighs, "No. I'm the one at fault here."

When he doesn't elaborate his mother prompts, "How so?"

"Because." Ben look up, out at the pool and lawn chairs, before he admits, "I asked her if she's ever had sex before, when I already knew she'd been…" He feels the tears intrude his eyes, "On the Isle of the Lost. She'd been… raped."

His mother gasps, "Oh. That poor girl." and Ben's father takes her hand.

Ben feels the tears fall to his face, "I just don't understand. How could I have forgotten something like that?"

"You were upset," his father reasons. "In the heat of the moment things can happen."

"I knew. I knew," Ben repeats. "I knew, and I just trudged it all back up for her to remember." He looks up at his mother, "I never meant to hurt her like that."

"Oh." His mother places a hand on his shoulder, "Honey, we know that."

"We never mean to hurt the ones we love," his father reassures. "Sometimes it just can't be helped."

Belle shares a look with her husband, before she asks, "Why didn't you tell us about this before now?"

"It happened a few years ago," he whispers. "She just seems to really want to forget, and I wasn't going to bring it up if I didn't have to. It's private."

"She may want to forget," his mother responds, "but you still should have told us."

Ben glares at her, and she lets go of him. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you were completely honest in those interviews you guys had when you were first married? Because, I don't think you told anyone about the claw marks Dad left on you." He turns to him, "And I know you didn't tell them that you had Mom locked in that prison cell for far longer than just a couple measly hours."

"That's private," his mother defends. "You know the people would never understand."

"Exactly my point," Ben yells. "What happened between you two while Father was still the beast is private, just as what happened to Mal is very private to her."

His mother nods in understanding, "You make a fair point." before she meets his eyes. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"I—" Ben sighs, "I don't know."

"If I might make a suggestion," his father begins, before Ben faces him. "Apologize to her. Take a rose from the garden, and give it to her."

"But those roses," Ben disbelieves.

"You need to show her you care," he softly interrupts. "That requires something special."

Ben slowly nods, "Okay." before he hesitates to smile. "Thank you."

* * *

When Ben knocks on the door Evie opens it, and he slightly smiles, "I'm happy to see you're better."

"Yeah. So am I," she tiredly responds.

"Is Mal here?"

Evie looks over her shoulder, "Your boyfriend is here to see you. Are you home?"

"How about not?" Mal retorts.

Ben sighs, "Please. I need to see her."

Evie glances down, "Are those for her?"

"Yeah," Ben hurries to respond. "They're strawberry crème."

"Let him in," Mal calls out, and Evie opens the door wider.

Ben walks in, noticing Mal sitting on the edge of her bed, and he goes over to kneel in front of her, "I'm so sorry, Mal. I didn't mean to hurt you." He holds up the rose, "I got this for you. It's from my parents' rose garden."

Mal evenly comments, "You killed a flower for me. How sweet."

He pulls the golden box from behind his back, "I got you some chocolate too." She doesn't speak. "Please. I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry."

Mal looks up at Evie, "What do you say? Should I accept his apology?"

"If I was given flowers and chocolate every time someone said something terribly stupid to me," Evie frowns, "then I'd be the happiest girl alive."

Mal smiles before smirking down at Ben, taking the large box from him, "Strawberry, you said?"

"Yes," Ben hopefully smiles, before she opens the box up and tastes one. "They're good." Her smiles widens, before she looks over him, "You can get back to your feet." Ben does as instructed but doesn't dare to speak. Mal lays the box down, before she stands and stares into his hazel green eyes, "You're mine tonight."

"Pardon?" Ben slightly frowns.

"A movie," Mal clarifies. "Tonight. Your room. And bring snacks."

"Tonight?" he shocks.

"We're girlfriend and boyfriend," Mal evenly responds. "We should be dating." She looks up, "Unless, of course, you don't want to be with me."

"No." Ben immediately answers, "I do."

Mal maliciously smiles, "Then I'll see you tonight." before she leans forward to kiss him, lightly shoving him back instead. "You can wait. Can't you?"

Ben opens his eyes, "Yes." before he stares into hers. "You won't be sorry."

"I'd better not be," Mal proclaims, before she places her hands on his shoulders and walks forward. "You have a lot of time to make up for."

"I know," Ben hesitates, glancing down as he frowns, and before he knows it the carpet changes to the color of the hallway. He looks off to his right, and there it is: the hallway.

"Make it good," he hears Mal say, but by the time he looks back at her the door is already shut in his face.


	171. I Care about You Too

**I Care about You Too**

 **(Day 136: Tuesday Night)**

"So," Ben comments as he walks Mal over to the table, "We have chips, dips, cheese, and…"

Mal eyes at the tiny, red cylinders on the glass platter, "Meat links?"

"Sure," Ben accepts, before he pulls out a chair and Mal goes to sit in the one next to right. Ben frowns, briefly shocked, before he takes that seat instead.

Mal takes one of the links, "Hmm. These are good."

"Yeah," Ben catches the scent. "They're, uh, smoked." He forces his eyes away from them and grabs the remote, "So, what do you want to watch?"

She smiles, "I hear spy movies are good."

Ben makes a noise, "I don't know if they will have it." before he notices his textbooks stacked onto his laptop on the other side of the table. "Here." He moves to that chair, sets the books aside and opens the laptop, "You can find anything now." He pauses as he types. "And I know one that's really good." He looks up at her, "Wait. Do you want the one for kids or the one for teens?"

"Doesn't matter."

"I'll do the kid one," Ben decides. "I think you will find the funny better."

"Mal's quiet for a minute, "The word you've been looking for is humor." Ben offers her a confused look. "Funny is someone's response to humor," she frowns. "I'm pretty sure humor is the noun." She looks off, "Funny is an adjective."

"Right," Ben slowly says, before he looks back at the screen.

After another minute Mal questions, "Why do you think I will like this better?"

Ben hesitates, "Well, just." before he scratches the back of his head and meets her eyes. "It's mean, kind of. The sister makes fun of him, and people get hurt." Mal doesn't speak. "I just would guess— because of how I see you and your friends— that you're more… You know this humor better than others."

Mal slightly nods, "Okay."

He turns the laptop around before returning to the seat next to her, and he presses play before bringing a bowl of white dip and another of red chips next to him. "I don't know if they talk in Spanish in this one or not… But you know the small stuff, right?"

Mal continues to stare at the screen, "No." but when the mother starts the bedtime story she smiles. "Their greatest weapon was their minds," she repeats. "I'm liking this already." Ben glances over, starting to smile, but it begins to falter as he notices her scent and his eyes lower to her exposed neck. He swiftly turns away from her, taking in a deep breath and pretending to clear his throat, before he starts in on the chips and dip. Some time passes, and Mal laughs at Ben's still growling stomach, "You should have brought better food." She notices his concern, and she turns the meat side of the platter towards him, "Here. Have some."

Ben shakes his head, "No. I got those for you."

"What about you?" she raises an eyebrow.

He lifts a shoulder, "I'll grab something later." before he wets his lips and turns back to his snacks. "I'm fine with these right now."

Ben hears Mal take an unsure breath, before she slowly says, "Okay." in a higher tone than her typical voice. He looks back at her. She doesn't believe him, and he just wishes she wouldn't make such a big deal out of it.

He frowns as he turns back to the screen, and when an action scene comes up he questions, "What do you think so far?"

"I like it," Mal continues to look at the laptop. "It's interesting." The movie continues on, and when it reaches the end she hears Ben sigh, "Something wrong?"

Ben deeply frowns, "Nothing." before he faces her. "It just made me sad… I guess."

"Why?" Mal frowns in return.

He slightly shakes his head, "Their family is just so strong."

"And yours isn't?" Mal inquires. Ben glances down, and she lets out a breath, "Look, Ben." He faces her again, and she squints, "Every family has problems. You saw at the beginning of the movie that they had problems. It only ends happy, because it's a movie." She raises her eyebrows, "And if the movie continues, you could bet they would have even more problems to deal with."

"I guess," Ben quietly says.

"I owe you a kiss," Mal attempts to distract him, before she leans forward and he closes his eyes.

After the first one Mal goes for a second one, but Ben turns his head away and gulps, "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

Mal backs off, "This is because of what I did."

"No," Ben softly responds. "It's just…" He looks down, "We watched a movie. We ate." before he faces her. "I think the date is done."

She shakes her head, "Why now?"

He wets his lips, "I have stuff to do."

Mal's quiet for a second, "You're lying."

Ben meets her eyes, "I'm not."

"Then what are you doing?"

He looks off, "Stuff."

"Right," Mal sarcastically says.

"Look." Ben faces her, "It's not you. It's me."

Mal tilts her head, before commenting more sternly, "What about you?" He doesn't speak, and she questions louder, "Well?"

He quietly answers, "I just can't right now."

She shakes her head, "And here I thought we were going somewhere."

"Mal," he attempts to reason.

"You know," Mal fumes. "You're worse than my mother. At least she was there. She may have told me I was young, careless, and stupid, and hypnotized me to do her bidding, but at least she was there."

Ben lift a hand, "Can you slow down?"

Mal shakes her head, "You're unbelievable." before she takes a deep breath and Ben can see the tears in her eyes. "Tell me. Tell me you want me."

"I love you," he reassures.

"No," Mal rejects. "Say you care. Say you want to be with me."

Ben continues to frown, "Why?"

"Because," Mal asserts. "Love doesn't mean anything."

"Of course it means something," Ben disagrees.

Mal nods, "Yeah. Love means people will hurt you if they think it will make you better, because they're so afraid of losing you, but when you care—" She takes a deep breath and continues slower, "When you care about someone you care about how they feel, not just their stupid survival." She sadly laughs, "When you love someone you do it for yourself. When you care about someone you're doing it for them."

"I do care about you," he slowly says. "It's because I care that I'm doing this."

The tears fall to her cheeks, "Help me understand." and after a long moment she notices his eyes start to shine.

Ben whispers in a high, unsteady tone, "I'm sorry. I can't."

Mal looks away as she nods, "Okay." before she stands from her seat.

When she starts to walk away Ben sadly says, "Mal."

She turns back to him, "I care about you too." before continuing to the door, and when she enters the hall she finds herself walking down to Jay's room. She knocks, and when he answers he immediately frowns. "You up for a drink?"

It takes a moment for him to nod, "Yeah." before he points his head back towards the room. "I'll go get my jacket."


	172. Useless

**Useless**

 **(Day 137: Wednesday Noon)**

Evie's hand shakes as she reaches for the pink smoothie, before she quickly pulls it back and shuts her eyes tight, "I can't do it."

"Yes, you can," Doug supports. "You've had these before."

She doesn't speak. "Evie," he tries to reason. "You measured it out yourself. It's only a hundred and ten calories. You can do this." Her breathing becomes faster, and Doug takes a deep breath before nodding and pushing the smoothies and his pastries over to the side. "Okay." He takes her hands, and she looks at him. "What's wrong?"

"I just can't," she shakily whispers.

"No." Doug corrects himself, "I mean… What happened? Something's happened that has nothing to do with this. I know it."

Her eyes move towards the ceiling, and the tears fall from her eyes, "Mal." She meets his green eyes before looking down, "She basically said I'm not fat enough to be with her." Evie takes her hand from his, as she cries, "I don't know what to do. I'm either going to have to get all blobby again or…" She shakes her head, "I don't understand." before she faces him. "Why can't I have her _and_ be beautiful?"

"Evie." He lets out a breath, "It really is a safety thing. You were just in the hospital."

"So?" she disbelieves.

"So," Doug calmly continues, "Mal can't be with you right now, because she cares about you and she probably just really doesn't want to hurt you again."

Evie huffs, "I just tried to touch her hand. But she wouldn't even let me do that."

"She's scared," Doug slowly nods. "She's scared to hurt you. She's afraid of losing you."

"She's not going to lose me," Evie insists.

"Not even if you're not being safe with her or yourself? Do you really believe that?" She doesn't answer, and he watches as her eyes shift away. "Evie?"

"I only got hurt," Evie excuses, "because I slept with her overnight. Holding my hand isn't going to kill me. We should still be able to do that— and everything else too."

"You mean like make out?" Doug assumes, and she grows quiet. "You see," he glances down, readjusting his glasses. "I don't get that." He faces her again, "Biologically speaking, you wouldn't be able to carry a child right now. Shouldn't your sex drive be pretty much nonexistent right now?"

"Not completely," Evie frowns, and it takes her a moment to continue, "Honestly, I am more of a romantic. I only really get close to Mal like that, because it's the only way to really get close to her and…" She tilts her head, "And I get to do something for her." before she eyes down. "But now I can't." She half laughs, "You know." before she faces Doug again. "When we first got here I was all bent out of shape about how Ben was hotter than I am and how Mal was immediately drawn to him." She slightly shakes her head, "But, no. It was never him." and she gulps as more tears flow to her eyes. "It was me. Ben's not even really in the picture right now, and I'm still completely useless to her." Evie stares into his eyes, "What does that say about me, that I can't even satisfy her needs?"

Doug takes a moment, "You're not broken." and he hears her laugh out a breath. "You're just sick, but you're going to get better."

Evie looks off again, "I'm not sick." before she sternly looks at him. "It's not my fault this is happening."

"I never said it was," he quietly comments, and he watches in suspicion as she looks off again. "Evie?"

"I shouldn't have to change the way I look just to be with her," she asserts.

"Evie," he tries to reason. "This isn't about looks. Mal just wants you to be safe and alive, and so do I."

Evie furrows her eyebrows, "You're only saying that so I'll eat."

"Don't you want to?" he disbelieves, before he gestures to the smoothie. "You just tried to drink this. I know you want to. You were trying."

It takes a minute for her to counter, "I eat to live. I don't eat just to do it."

Doug shakes his head, "So, what? You don't want to recover?"

"Not if it means being fat," she retorts.

"Gaining ten pounds wouldn't make you fat," he loudly says. "It would make you healthy." He grows quieter, "Or, well, healthier."

"Healthy is just another word for fat," Evie bares her whitened teeth.

Doug sadly shakes his head, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's like you're a completely different person," he whispers, before he look down in thought. "No. You were just on board with me five minutes ago." He faces her, "It's like someone is making you say these things."

Evie's mouth opens before she seethes, "That's crazy."

"Maybe." Doug pauses as he looks at her, "But it's how it feels."

Evie's eyes move again, before she shakes her head, "I have to go."

* * *

"Hey," Carlos hears the voice, before he looks up and sees Aziz.

He frowns in hesitance, "Hey."

"Can I sit here?"

Carlos notices the chair across the table, "Uh, yeah." before he attempts to smile. "Sure."

When Aziz sits down he opens his textbook, "So, what you working on?"

"Um." Carlos looks down at his assignment, "Trigonometry." before he frowns back and looks him over. "What about you?"

"Communications," he smiles.

Carlos nods before looking back at his assignment, but before the minute passes he faces him, "Look." Carlos glancing down, and when his eyes move up again they meet his brown ones. "About what happened—"

"Don't worry about it," he makes a face. "It's fine."

It takes a moment for Carlos to uncomfortably say, "You look a lot like him."

"Well, our parents were born of the same kingdom," he pinpoints.

"Well. Yeah." He takes a breath, "It's just, uh…" He faces him again, "I know you don't like me like that, so…" Carlos makes a noise, "You don't need to like worry or anything."

Aziz laughs, "Self-control is a thing." before he gives him a pointed look. "Gay people— or people with gay tendencies— don't scare me."

"Oh," Carlos surprises. "Well, that's— That's good, then." He waits for a response, and he begins to panic when there is none. "Right?"

"Yeah," he agrees.

Carlos watches as he looks over him, "What?"

"I was just thinking," he starts to frown, "about those burns I saw earlier this semester."

"Oh," Carlos looks down.

Aziz hesitates, "You got kind of defensive about them." before he lays his arms on the table. "It kind of made me wonder if there was a reason, but I didn't want to upset you."

Carlos faces him, "You know my mother, that she used to?"

He nods, "Yeah."

Carlos nods in return, taking a deep breath and looking down, before he meets his eyes again, "I just, um." He unsurely replies, "I just really missed her, I guess." before he looks away from him. "I know. It sounds stupid."

"No," Aziz disagrees, and Carlos looks at him again. "She's your mother. I understand."

He hesitates, "That burn you caught me with… I did it myself."

"Yeah. I kind of figured that." Carlos nods, and Aziz questions, "If you don't mind me asking, why?"

"The pain." It takes him a minute, "It was… relaxing."

"Like an anxiety thing?" he questions.

Carlos glances down in thought, "Maybe I'm just conditioned to it." and he pauses. "All I know is… I needed it."

"Do you still do it?"

He uncomfortably smiles, "Uh. Things are kind of complicated right now."

Aziz nods, "Okay."

After a minute Carlos comments, "Thank you, for like not completely freaking out."

"Everyone has weird stuff about them," he reasons.

"No. I mean," Carlos sighs. He nods towards him, "You know. The thing."

"Oh," Aziz laughs. "Yeah. Like I said before, it's fine. Don't worry about it." He stresses, "Really."

"And you're not just saying that because you're uncomfortable," he makes sure.

"No," Aziz frowns. "I told you. It's fine."

Carlos nods a few times, "Okay."

Aziz smiles, "You know, uh." before he turns the page in his notebook. "I have some vocab. Could you spare a few minutes to help me?"

Carlos smiles back, "Yeah. Okay." before Aziz hands over the notebook and it begins.

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Ben blacks out


	173. Dysmorphia

**Dysmorphia**

 **(Day 139: Friday Morning)**

"Cereal again?" Mal notices, as she looks at Ben's tray.

"Cereal is food too," Ben defends.

"Not for us, it isn't," she counters, before she hears his stomach rumble and shakes her head. "Come on, Ben. You're clearly a carnivore. Just go get some bacon and eggs."

"I'm fine," he irritably states. "Thank you."

Evie looks over him, "Ben… Maybe you should."

He glares at her, "I'm not getting told how to eat from someone with an ED."

Mal watches as Evie tears up, and after Evie runs off she swiftly turns to Ben, "What the hell is wrong with you?" She notices a few stares from the other students as he fails to respond, before she huffs and stands from the table to go after Evie.

When Ben takes another bite of cereal Doug glances at Evie's plate of apple slices, "You really couldn't let her finish?"

Ben notices the red apple, "It's not like she was going to eat anyway."

Doug's quiet for a minute, as he observes him, "You know she's right, though. You must have lost half of your muscle by now."

Ben gives him a look, "You think that maybe that might be from not playing tourney?"

"You still go to the gym," he contradicts.

"Not since my shoulder cracked," Ben furrows his brows at him. "Or did you forget?"

Doug sighs, "I'm just saying that it's kind of mean that you said that to her when she takes food advice from you all the time."

"Well, I don't have an eating disorder," he disagrees.

Doug pauses for a moment, and Ben's expression settles some, "I don't think you're entirely sure about that." He adjusts his glasses, "If you were, you wouldn't be all defensive and… well, scared."

"I'm not scared," Ben denies. "I just think this is stupid."

"What?" Doug questions. "Eating?"

"Everything," Ben nearly shouts, starting to stand as his hands lean on the table. "Everything is just so stupid." He breathes, "And I am so tired of it."

Doug notices the tears start to fill his eyes, before he quietly comments, "Ben."

He shakes his head, "I have to go."

"I'm going with you," Doug asserts as he also stands, before Ben gives him a quiet look-over and shakes his head. He silently starts to walk out of the cafeteria, and Doug follows him.

* * *

"Evie," Mal says, as she notices her sitting on the end of the bed and shuts the dorm door.

Evie looks up, and as Mal paces over Evie tries to wipe the tears away; however, as she observes her fingers she notices the slate blue stained onto them, "If only waterproof eyeshadow didn't completely suck."

Mal sits next to her, "Look." as she glances down. "What Ben did wasn't cool." She attempts to face her, but Evie continues to look down.

After a minute Evie softly comments, "It's just so hard." before she half laughs. "I don't know what to do— or even what's real anymore." She widens her eyes in attempt to prevent more tears, "There's just this— this thing— and it keeps telling me…" She looks up at Mal's even concern. "Are you lying to me? Is this just, just an excuse so you won't have to say you don't want to be with me?"

"Evie," Mal sighs. "You were in the hospital. This isn't a lie."

"But that was only because I was with you for too long," she excuses. "If you really wanted me, you could."

"Eves," Mal goes to place a hand on her arm, but as soon as she does she notices it and shuts her eyes as she pulls it away. She looks into her dark, sad eyes, "I've seen you wear long sleeves of leather and still shiver. You don't even have enough heat for yourself, and you really don't have any to offer me."

Evie's eyes shift, "So, that's all I am to you, is a heat source." before she faces her and pauses. "You were just using me, and now that I have nothing to offer you don't want me."

"You know that's not true," Mal asserts. "You probably know that more than I do."

Evie looks away, slightly nodding as she lets out a shaky breath, "I saw a therapist yesterday afternoon." She looks back at Mal, "It was just this long quiz, and they needed information on my family's history, but I got to meet her and…"

"And?" Mal frowns.

"It needs further evaluation," Evie gulps, before she takes a deep breath. "But she thinks I might have Anorexia Nervosa and Body Dysmorphia."

"Body Dysmorphia?" Mal raises an eyebrow.

Evie looks off, "It basically means that I see flaws in my body that are either smaller than I see or… don't even exist at all." She turns back to Mal as tears fill her eyes, "You would tell me if I was fat, wouldn't you?"

"Evie," Mal quietly states, "if you were fat, then heat wouldn't even be a problem."

"No, but I mean like…" She hesitates, "The way I see myself, I'm not fat fat. I'm thin. I know that, but…" Her mouth stays open, but the next words are hard to get out, "I'm not a skeleton, so why does everyone keep saying those things." She takes Mal's hands, "Please. Just tell me. How bad do I really look?"

Mal's quiet for a minute, "Do you want me to draw you?" Evie shakily laughs through a smile before nodding fast. "Okay." Mal stands to her feet, looking over her in hesitation, "Go put on something more revealing. I'm going to give you a full picture."

"Okay," she whispers.

When Evie goes to the dresser Mal finds her purple bag to pull out the drawing pad and box of colored pencils. She sits on her own bed, waiting for Evie to emerge from the bathroom, and after Evie sits down across from her Mal looks over the dark blue bra and matching panties. "You know, when I said more revealing—"

"I don't really have anything else," she quietly responds.

Mal nods, "Okay, then." before she picks up the sketching pencil. She starts with Evie's hair and face, the flat waves of blue moving down to her gaping collar bones and the prominent cheekbones under her tired eyes, before she continues on to the thin arms and visible ribcage. Mal looks further down and finishes off the shape by sketching the large thigh gap and sharp knees, before she replaces the sketching pencil with a few shades of pale pink and off-white. Her frown deepens, as she notices that even Evie's makeup hasn't hidden the darkened area below her eyes; however, when she finishes coloring the sketch she doesn't hesitate for a moment before standing and handing it to her.

Evie frowns, "I don't look like this."

"E," Mal quietly stresses. "I wouldn't lie to you… Not about this."

"No," she shakes her head. "My thighs aren't that thin, and my rib bones don't show that much." She looks up at her, "This has to be a mistake."

It takes Mal a moment to say, "You've seen my art. Do I make those kind of mistakes?"

Evie's eyebrows furrow, before she begins to cry, "I don't understand. I'm only ninety-eight pounds. My mother—"

"Your mother wanted you to look like the traditional princess," Mal interrupts. "She wanted you to have a tiny waist, even if you didn't have a waist trainer." Evie frowns up at her in slight shock. "She gave you unrealistic expectations, and…" Mal shakes her head, "You've seen the princesses around here. Apparently waist trainers aren't safe, moves organs around or something. They aren't even used anymore." Mal widens her eyes, "You're okay just the way you are."

Evie shakes her head hard as she holds her breath, before she looks back down at the drawing and squeaks, "No. I'm not." She breathes, "Not if I look like this."

After she begins to cry Mal finds a blanket, wrapping it around her before moving in to hug her, "It's okay. Things can change. Everything's going to be okay."

* * *

\- Posted: 01/01/2018

\- People can get confused between dysmorphia and dysphoria. As explained in the chapter, body dysmorphia refers to a view of one's body in a way where the flaws are larger than what they really are. This could include the size of your nose, how your hair is, or in the case where it's combined with anorexia the person may see themselves as larger than they actually are. It's a lot more common in media for anorexics to think they're fat, but I don't think this is actually that common. A lot of anorexics can actually tell they're underweight, and they probably don't even see it as beautiful. It's not about vanity. It's about control and numbing feelings. Moving onto to what dysphoria is, gender dysphoria refers to the anxiety a transgender person may face with either their bodies or the social expectations or their assigned gender. The word dysphoria sounds very similar to dysmorphia, but it's not the same at all. When it comes to body dysphoria, the transgender individual would be anxious over either shape or secondary sex characteristics and not just some perceived flaw. Dysphoria also includes social dysphoria, where the trans person may find themselves in comfortable situation (maybe like people using the pronouns of their assigned-at-birth gender. I hope this clears up the distinction between dysmorphia and dysphoria. If it doesn't, feel free to ask questions.


	174. Blackout

**Blackout**

 **(Day 140: Saturday Night)**

Ben irritably looks up from his textbook, "You do know that yesterday when I said I was tired of everything that I wasn't saying I'm going to kill myself, right?"

Doug frowns, "I'm not leaving you alone when you say those things, not after what almost happened."

He continues to stare at him, "All I said was that I'm tired."

"When guys get depressed they're more likely to say that they're tired rather than sad," Doug points out. "That's why men are so undiagnosed."

"But I can't sleep," Ben stresses. "Don't you think if I was depressed that I'd be asleep?"

Doug narrows his eyes, "Insomnia can also be a symptom of depression." before he watches him glare back down at the textbook. "Ben. I know you look this stuff up, so stop playing dumb and actually talk to me. What's wrong?"

Ben looks back up at him, readying another retort; however, the light of the lamp catches his eyes, as the spikes stream towards him and he feels the heat radiate from it. It's suddenly a lot warmer, and when he hears something he looks back at it: the thing with brown tufts. He stares at it for a moment, it's mouth opening and closing, before his eyes grow heavy and fall to the sights of the nearest piece of flesh. The next moment, however, the creature is gone, and it takes him a minute to stand to his feet. The world is distorted, bright and wobbly, as he places his hand on passing objects to get to the soft plateau. He turns on his side, as he hears the water, and when he looks through the archway he notices something is there; however, he can't be bothered with it, taking in a relaxed breath and shutting his eyes instead.

* * *

When Doug hears the noise he looks over from his bed, "Ben?"

He groans, "What time is it?"

Doug checks the time on the tablet before setting it down, "Going on one A.M." There's a louder groan, and he hesitates, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Ben rolls over to face him, "Weird dream."

He looks him over, "Was I in it?"

"No."

"Then what was it about?" he inquires.

It takes Ben a minute to find the word, "Waterfall." before he hurriedly continues. "It was a waterfall."

"Okay," Doug slowly says in suspicion.

Ben looks down from him and notices the white wrap around his wrist, "What happened?"

His eyes move to where Ben's lie, and he covers the bandage more with his checkered sleeve before facing him in hesitance, "Ben. What's the last thing you remember?"

He shakes his head, "We were talking." before his eyebrows furrow. "I, uh, felt dizzy, and… you said my name three times, but… I didn't even know it was my name."

When he faces him Doug quietly asks, "Anything else?"

Ben's eyes lower to the bandage, as he recalls that wrist is the last thing he'd seen, and he wets his lips, "No." He meets Doug's green eyes, "I don't."

Doug looks away, quiet as he readjusts his glasses, before he faces him, "Ben." He softly says, "I don't know how to tell you this, but… you bit me."

He looks off as he sits up, a heavy, dreadful feeling settling over him, "This— This can't be." His friend fails to speak, and he tries to keep the tears at bay. "This isn't a dream," Ben slowly states, before Doug shakes his head.

He watches as his head lowers, hidden away in shame, "Ben." Doug sighs, "I know you don't want to… but you really need to get off this bread and fruit diet of yours."

Ben swiftly turns his eyes back up, "It's not a diet."

Doug notices the tears on his face, "You need meat, Ben. There's no way to get around it." He looks into his green hazel eyes, "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"It was an accident," he pleads.

"I know." Doug attempts to reason, "But you got lucky. I know you. I know that you'd never want to hurt anyone, that your struggling, that it's not your fault. But what if it happens again and you're not lucky?"

"It willn't," Ben stresses.

Doug's quiet for a moment, "Ben. I need you to slow down and think." and he waits to let him process it. "I've known you for a few years now, but there are people out there who only know you as you present yourself, as you pretend to be. They don't know about your problems— or even what you are. What happens if next time this happens it's to one of them?"

"It's not going to happen again," he offers a pained expression.

Doug continues to frown at him, "You need to start eating again, Ben. This isn't going to stop just because you don't want it to exist." Ben looks away. "You're a carnivore, and your body knows it. All you have to do is listen."

He shuts his eyes, "I don't want to."

"It's safer for everyone if you choose when to eat," Doug counters, before he thinks, "What if it happens in class next time? What if someone videos it? I know you don't want that."

Ben yells at him, "I don't want any of this."

He slightly nods, "I know." before he faces him. "But you have no choice here." He glances down, as Ben begins to cry hard, "I'm sorry, man. It's just the way things have to be."

* * *

After what feels like hours Ben settles. He recalls over and over on how Doug said he has no choice, before he glances over at the sleeping roommate in realization. There is a choice: no one gets hurt, and he doesn't have to become that dreaded beast. He stands from the bed and saunters into the bathroom, before he turns on the tub water and returns to the main room. Doug is still asleep; however, when he opens the drawer to his bedside table a shuffling is heard, and he notices Doug turn over.

Once the movement stops Ben continues to open the drawer, pulling out the liquid nighttime medicine and bottle of melatonin. He finds his water bottle, downing a handful of the small, white circles, before he pours the blue liquid into the measuring cup, drinks from it, and then pours another. In only moments he can already start to feel the effects, his mind clearer than it's ever been, and he sets the bottle down before returning to the bathroom. He shuts off the water, turns to close the door, and strips to his boxers before stepping into the warm water.

* * *

When Doug momentary opens his eyes he notices the light on in the bathroom, and he checks his phone for the time. It's going on six A.M. He starts to shut his eyes again; however, just before he does he sees the tall objects on Ben's bedside table, and after a moment he forces himself up to go take a closer look. It's the stuff Ben uses to sleep, but he's not in bed. Doug goes to the bathroom door and calls out, "Ben." There's no response, and he knocks, "Ben. You in there?" He runs a hand over his mouth before testing the doorknob, and he breathes in relief that it hadn't been locked. Doug enters the room, immediately looking over into the tub, and he sees Ben's head beneath the water before rushing to pull him out and onto the tiled floor.

When the chest compressions don't seem to work Doug adds the mouth-to-mouth technique, and within the next minute Ben coughs up the water. His eyes flutter open, "Doug?"

Doug smiles in nervous laughter, "Ben." but he starts to frown again as he sees him shut his eyes once more. He checks his pulse, noting it's still very much there, before he looks back to where the medicine would be sitting on the table. "Right," he recalls, and when Ben shows no sign of waking Doug thinks about moving him to the bed; however, Ben would be hard to carry and he doesn't want to risk hurting his shoulder, so he goes to grab a couple pillows and a blanket for him instead.

* * *

After Doug enters Fairy Godmother's office and takes a seat he rubs his hands together, "It's about Ben." He faces her, "You need to talk to him or something."

"What do you think I need to talk to him about?" she inquires.

It takes Doug a minute to think, "He hasn't been eating right." and when he faces her he notices her waiting for him to elaborate. "You do know, don't you?"

"Are you referring to his protein intake?"

Doug hesitates, "I'm talking about his meat intake." before he readjusts his glasses. "He hasn't been eating any."

"And what would you like me to do?" the headmistress questions.

Doug shakes his head, "I'm not explaining this right." before he pulls his sleeve up and holds up his arm so that she can see the bandage.

Fairy Godmother widens her eyes, "Did Ben…"

"It was an accident," he explains. "I don't want him to get in trouble. He doesn't even remember it, but…" Doug meets her brown eyes, "He needs to eat. He needs someone to convince him too."

"You say that he doesn't remember," she cautiously analyzes. "Does he know now?"

"Of course," Doug quickly states. "He needed to know that for him he doesn't have a choice to eat meat or not." He glances down, "But…" before looking back at her and slowly continuing. "I think he thought that the best way to not hurt anyone else was to not be around."

Fairy Godmother softly asks, "Pardon?"

It's hard for him to say it, "Ben tried to kill himself."

She deeply frowns, "When was this?"

"Before I came here," Doug explains. "He took cold medicine and fell asleep in a bath… Luckily for him, I know CPR."

"And where is he now?" she concerns.

"Sleeping," Doug frowns. "It's the, uh, medicine, but he'll be fine. He's breathing, so…"

"And you're sure it was a suicide attempt?" she makes sure.

"People don't wear underwear in baths," Doug points out, before he shakes his head and sighs, "I don't know how to help him." He meets her eyes, "But he needs it. Badly."


	175. A Danger to Yourself and Others

**A Danger to Yourself and Others**

 **(Day 141: Sunday Afternoon)**

When Ben enters the office he cautiously states, "I was told you wanted to see me."

"Yes." She gestures to the chair. "Take a seat." She's frowning, and Ben can't find the courage to walk to the chair. He looks at her. The last time she frowned that much she gave up on him coming forth about his parents. "You're not in trouble. Please. Sit."

Ben hesitates before heading to the chair, and when he sits his eyes move to the cup of mints. He reaches for one, but the headmistress takes the cup before he can, placing it out of reach. He faces her, "What do you want? I thought we were done."

It takes her a minute to answer, "I would like to discuss how you've been doing. In one of our last conversation you were struggling with the idea of eating more meat than the average person, and you said that for the most part you're always hungry."

Ben frowns in recollection, "Yes."

"How have you been doing since then?" she inquires.

He shakes his head, "Fine."

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "You're certain of that?"

"Yeah." He awkwardly smiles, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Ben." She pauses, "I want you to know that no matter what happens, if you're struggling with something it's okay to talk about it. You won't get in trouble."

Ben straighten up, "Doug talked with you."

"Yes," she confirms, and Ben nods as he looks off towards the door. "He's worried about you. He hoped I might be able to help."

When Ben looks back at her he feels a heavy sensation as his eyes moisten, "I'm a monster." and he shakes his head. "How can you possibly help me with that?"

"A monster," she repeats. "Is that how you see yourself?" Ben glances down in silent thought, and she softly continues, "You're no monster. You just have different needs, and as a carnivore there are more risks involved in starvation than with… well. Someone who's not." She notices a couple tears fall from his eyes, "Ben?"

He shakily laughs before whispering, "My life is a nightmare, a never-ending hell, and all I ever fucking hear is that all I need to do is accept it."

"Some things, yes," Fairy Godmother quietly responds, "but not all things. I would never ask you to live with your parents forever."

Ben grins, "Just another thing I have no choice in." before he shakes his head. "I—" He faces her, "I can't keep doing this." and he shakes his head again. "I just can't." He shuts his eyes, "Hell, whatever it is, has got to be a hell of a lot better than this."

When he opens up his eyes the headmistress concerns, "Suicide isn't an option, Ben."

"You want to bet?" he counters with wide eyes.

She quiets, "I'm not suggesting that it isn't possible." as she meets his eyes. "I'm simply saying you don't want to do it."

"I don't want to do it?" Ben disbelieves.

Fairy Godmother clasps her hands, "I know you care about your mother. How do you think she would feel had you succeeded in your attempt?"

"She's better off without me," Ben mumbles, before he realizes he'd be leaving her with his father; however, the next moment he considers how he's seemed to be more of a danger to her in the last few months than his father's emotional outbursts ever seemed to have.

"And Mal?" the headmistress counters. "How do you think she would react to the news?"

"Mal?" He glances down, "She'd probably think it was her fault somehow." before he faces her and huffs. "But she'd be better off too. Everyone would."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because," Ben shouts, before he makes a pained expression, tears intruding his eyes, before he softly says, "I can't even sit next to her without thinking about ripping into her throat. What does that say about me?"

"I think it shows just how malnourished and in need of help you are," she evenly answers, and Ben looks away. "Ben." She hesitates, "I don't want to have to do this, given your particular situation, but if you continue to fail to take care of your nutritional needs… I am going to have to send you home."

He swiftly turns to her, "No."

She notices his widened eyes, "I won't have to if you eat."

"Evie doesn't eat," Ben brings up. "Why don't you suspend her?"

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "You have become a danger to yourself and others. That requires special action."

"It's the school year," Ben stresses. "I should be allowed to stay here. I need to stay here." She doesn't speak, and he whispers, "Please. I don't want to… I can't."

"If I allow you to stay here," the headmistress asserts, "then you need to eat. Do you understand me?"

Ben looks off before gulping, "Yes." before he faces her. "Can I leave now?"

She frowns, "We still need to discuss your suicide attempt."

Ben shakes his head, muttering, "Didn't we just do that?"

"I'm not comfortable with your roommate being the only one aware of your current emotional wellbeing," she addresses. "I think it would be beneficial if you had more people supporting you— to help you."

He eyes her in suspicion, "I don't think I understand."

"I would like you to tell someone about your desperate attempt, someone who could keep an eye on you during the school day."

His mouth slightly gapes, "Is that really necessary?"

"Or I could inform your translator and have her contact me if she suspects something's wrong," Fairy Godmother suggests, and Ben stays quiet. "I know it must be scary to even think to tell anyone about this, but I do indeed think it's necessary."

Ben slightly nods before wetting his lips, "Chad. He already knows."

"Sorry," she apologizes. "Because this person wouldn't be attending class, I would prefer that they hold fair grades."

He glances down, "I don't know anyone."

She widens her eyes, "Are you sure about that?"

It takes a minute for Ben to question, "Aziz. Does he have good grades?"

"Aziz Ali?" she clarifies.

"Yes."

She nods, "I think he will do."

"Okay, then." Ben takes an encouraging breath, "I want it to be him."

* * *

After Aziz enters the office and sits in the second chair he glances between the headmistress and Ben, before frowns at Ben, "Now that I'm here, what's this about?"

Ben looks at Fairy Godmother, but she merely nods in response before Ben looks back at Aziz. His mouth slightly gapes, before it turns into an awkward smile, "How would you feel about getting out of class?"

He offers a questioning look, "Sorry. What?"

Ben wets his lips, "Fairy Godmother wants someone to be with me when I'm doing my homework out of class with the… the…"

Aziz watches him look off, trying to remember, "Interpreter?"

"Right," Ben bypasses as he faces him again. "So. Do you want to?"

He looks between them, "I don't understand. Why, exactly, is this even… a thing?"

"Because," Ben's frown deepens. "I need to be watched, I guess."

"And why's that?"

Ben's silent for a long moment, "Because, I, uh-em…" and his sentence continues even quieter. "I tried to kill myself this morning."

Aziz huffs in disbelief, "Burying the lead a little, don't you think?"

"Doug is already aware of the situation," Fairy Godmother softly speaks. "I would just like someone else to be aware and follow him during the school day, which would also include meals. Make sure he gets enough protein and iron, that kind of thing."

Aziz meets Ben's tired eyes, "I guess I could." before he faces the headmistress. "But I've been using mealtime to read the Quran. I need to finish it before the end of Ramadan. That's in eight days."

"Can't you read and keep your eyes on him at the same time?" she suggests.

He lets out a stressed breath, "Are holy books even allowed in the cafeteria?"

"For this specific situation," the headmistress raises her eyebrows as she reassures, "I will make an exception. Just keep it discreet, please."

He nods, "Okay."

Fairy Godmother partly smiles, "Good. Now. Perhaps you'd like to take Ben back to his dorm and hand him over to Doug?"

Aziz nods, "Yes, Fairy Godmother."

Ben lets out an annoyed breath, before he gives her a look, "After everything I said, you think always having people around is a good thing?"

The headmistress faces Aziz, "Do tell me if he refuses to have protein and iron during the meals. If he continues to do so, I will have to alert his parents and send him home indefinitely."

He nods again, "Yes, Headmistress." before he stands and waits for Ben to follow; however, when they make it into the hallway Aziz turns around. "Why?"

Ben furrows his eyebrows, "Why what?"

Aziz scans the hall before facing him, "Why did you try to kill yourself?"

He glances down, "Everyone is better without me."

Aziz shakes his head, "Ben. That's like the number one excuse for suicide." before he takes a calming breath. "And I'm not saying you don't feel that way, but, Ben… you really need a better excuse than that."

Ben feels the tears intrude his eyes, before he gulps and whispers, "I hurt people."

"What do you mean, you've hurt people?" Ben looks away, failing to respond, and Aziz rubs his forehead, "Look. Ben." He places his hands into his pockets, "I don't care what you've done. You're a good guy. I know you are."

Ben faces him with crunched eyebrows, "Everything is just so wrong." as he breathing becomes fast and unsteady. "And I don't know what to do."

Aziz places a hand on Ben's shoulder, facing him towards the wall so no one will notice his tears, "Ben. It's okay. I'm going to help you."

"You can't," he shakes his head in denial. "No one can."

It takes a moment for him to counter, "Let me at least try."

Ben's breathing slows, and when he goes to try to wipe the tears away he touches the tiring heat, "I don't feel so… so good."

Aziz frowns in realization, "Let's get you to your dorm."


	176. Avoidance

**Avoidance**

 **(Day 141: Sunday Night)**

Ben sighs before checking his watch, and when he pulls his phone out his father gives a stern look, "Put that away."

He frowns up at him, taking a moment to softy say, "I've been here for two hours."

"And you're going to stay here until we settle this," his father eyes him down.

"I'm not trying to leave," Ben whispers.

His mother places a hand on his father's arm, offering a cautious look, before turning to Ben, "Are you expecting a potential emergency?"

Ben opens his mouth, taking a minute before answering, "I'm the emergency. My roommate's been worried. I'm supposed to check in with him every hour."

She nods as she glances at the cellphone, "One text. And then put it away." and after Ben does so he looks up at her again. "You just need to choose something. Anything."

When Ben places a hand to his head, looking over his ten options, his father intrudes, "Elbows off the table."

Ben straightens up, facing his father in a long silence, before his mother brings his father's attention to her. "Adam. I have this. Why don't you take some time for yourself?"

"If I leave," he widens his eyes, "you're going to let him go."

"I will get him to eat," she promises. "But it's been a long, tiring discussion, and a stern talking to isn't what he needs right now."

He glances between her and Ben, "Make sure he does." before he stands and goes.

After Ben watches his father leave the dining room he faces his mother, "You shouldn't have promised that."

She's quiet for a moment, "Your father isn't fond of betrayal. Please, help me make my statement true." and when Ben stresses over his options again she walks around the table to sit next to him. "Just one item will do."

Ben looks over the five small plates of chicken, turkey, salami, steak, and smoked ham, before he also eyes over the black sludge, red soup, blood sausage, tiny sandwiches, and protein shake. "Why does this have to be so hard?" He meets her sad, brown eyes, "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Honey," she hesitates. "I need you to do this for me. I couldn't bear to lose you." He looks away from her. "I need you to live. You have to eat."

"I already did," Ben bypasses.

"Pardon?"

He faces her, tears filling his eyes, "I ate." and he feels his heart race. "Mom. Trust me. I ate. I did." She looks over him in observation. "Please. You have to believe me."

She wipes the tears from his face, "It's alright." before she moves in to hug him. "I believe you." She lets go of him but keeps a hand on his shoulder, as she hesitates, "But your father is going to need to have you have something here."

Ben whispers, "Why?"

"Because," she calmly explains. "In his mind, if you were to tell him what you just told me… you'd have only proved his point."

"I didn't mean," he desperately starts.

"I'm sure you didn't," she frowns, before she grabs the small plate of sandwiches. "Share these with me, and you may be excused." She turns back to him and notices his eyes piercing at them, "There's enough cheese where you won't even be able to taste it."

"But I still know it's in there," he reminds her.

"Ben." It takes her a minute, "What exactly detours you from eating this?"

He shakes his head, "The meat."

"Yes," she accepts, "but what about the meat?"

"It's," he loudly hisses, before he quiets and thinks, "It's… I, uh." He meets her eyes, "It's not fair that I have to eat meat when other people don't need to."

"Honey," she slightly shakes her head. "You're not alone. There are other hybrids— other carnivores— out there."

"But I'm not," Ben yells, before he shuts his eyes and wets his lips. "I mean…" He takes a breath before looking at her again, "I don't feel like I belong to those people."

It takes time for his mother to respond, and he feels his heart thump in paranoia, before she finally comments, "I know." She meets his eyes, "We've kept you from that community, and because of that you were raised in a purely human environment." Ben opens his mouth to deny that reason, but then she continues, "It must make you feel… unsettled, now that you do know."

Ben shakes his head, "I'm not blaming you. It's not your fault."

"We could have still handled it better," she denies, before she places the sandwiches between them. "But something to remember is that humans do eat meat too. In fact, were we in the ice age, I'd be eating as much meat as you." She picks up a sandwich and takes a bite, nodding down for him to do the same, and after he takes a bite she smiles with tears. "You see. We are the same."

* * *

When Aziz sits down with Ben across from Chad, Chad narrows his eyes as he looks between the two, "What's up with him?"

Ben comments, "Fairy Godmother thinks I need more support." before he looks at Aziz. "Are you okay with us talking in French?"

He slightly smiles, "If you don't mind me reading in Arabic." before he opens up the Quran and turns his attention to it; however, after he notices Ben avoiding the sandwiches he faces him. "You need protein."

Ben halts his conversation with Chad, glancing down at his half empty tray, before he looks at Aziz, "Can I not?"

Aziz sternly reminds him, "She's going to send you home. The school year is almost done. If you're sent home now, you'll miss exam week. You'll fail all of your classes." Ben fails to speak, merely continuing to look at him. "Is it just meat? Are you having a hard time with it?" Ben still doesn't speak, but he notices his pained expression. "Give me a minute."

When Aziz gets up from the table Chad comments, "We were talking about the next time we could go out."

Ben sighs, "Chad. I really don't know right now. Okay?"

Chad frowns, "It would be good for you to have some fun."

He's quiet for a moment, "Chad. For once, I want you to think about me, not you."

"I am thinking about you," he disbelieves.

There's a long silence, before Ben admits, "I attempted suicide again." and he notices Chad's expression become even more sad. "I can't plan right now." He shakes his head, "I simply can't see past today— or even this hour."

Chad takes an encouraging breath, before he shakes his head, "Just tell me when, day or night. I'll be there."

Ben nods, "I can do that." before he watches Aziz come back with a plate.

He sits down and switches Ben's tray with the plate, "Completely vegetarian." and when Ben offers him a questioning look Aziz points to the white block. "Tofu. High in protein and iron. Should be tasteless. You can add things to it next time."

Ben looks down at it, before he pokes the fork into it, "It looks easy to eat."

Aziz smiles, "If you go put syrup on it, it will become a good desert."

Ben laughs before raising his eyebrows at him, "Really?"

"Really."

Ben nods, "I'll have to try that." before he stands to take the plate to the kitchen.

* * *

Doug sits down across from Ben in the library, before he slowly says, "So." and Ben faces him. "You've been avoiding me."

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "I am sorry. You know that."

"Yes," he nods before adjusting his glasses. "So, why are you avoiding me." Ben merely frowns. "Are you afraid it will happen again?"

Ben opens his mouth before admitting, "Maybe." as he glances down. "In, uh, generally."

Doug nods in thought, before he questions, "Do you remember anything now, that you didn't before?" Ben shakes his head. "So, you don't remember what it tasted like?"

He looks down, "There was a…" before he faces him. "Looking back, there was a taste after—" He nods forward, keeping his eyes up, "After. But I didn't think about it, and I still don't know how it was."

Doug nods again, "Okay."

"I am sorry," Ben says again. "I would never want to even think about it or doing it."

Doug solemnly smiles, "Ben. It's okay." as he observes his expression. "I understand."


	177. I Wasn't Fine

**I Wasn't Fine**

 **(Day 143: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"You want extra credit?" Mr. Conrad raises his eyebrows.

"My… the, uh…" He wets his lips, "What my grade is guessed to be by how I'm doing right now, I would only have a B at the end of the year."

The balding teacher takes a moment, "Ben. The fact that your projected grade is predicted to be a B shows just how well you've done. This is essentially a pre-college course. Most people only get a B, and given the concussion you suffered from, I'd say you faired very well." Ben stares at him in confusion. "You didn't understand what I just said, did you?"

Ben looks off, "I just need my grade to be an A. If I act now—"

"Ben," the brown eyed teacher interrupts, before he widens his eyes, "Your grade is no worse than any other student. You did very well, even with how much you went through this year. Extra credit really isn't necessary."

He's silent for a minute, before he stresses, "I need an A."

"Why?"

Ben opens his mouth before slowly asserting, "I just really want an A."

Mr. Conrad turns to the computer, and it takes him a minute to find the information, "It looks like your lowest score came from the neurodisease unit." He writes on a sticky note, "If you can turn in a five page report accurately describing neurological diseases, such as Alzheimer's, then I will raise that unit's average by one full letter grade."

When Ben's presented with the sticky note he takes it, frowning, "Thank you."

Mr. Conrad hesitates, "Ben. How are you doing?"

He shakes his head, "What do you mean?"

"It's just," the teacher concerns, "you look a bit sick."

Ben furrows his brows before quietly commenting, "I'm fine."

He nods, "Very well." before he smiles. "Have a nice day."

Ben pauses, "Yeah." before he looks over him. "You too."

* * *

When Doug enters the kitchen he breathes in relief, "Ben." as he hurries to the other end of the room. "You had worried like crazy." He halts when his notices him crying, "Ben?"

"It's not working," he cries. "It's high in protein and iron, but it's not working." He shakily breathes, "And my stomach hurts, and I don't know if it's from eating or not eating."

Doug looks over the empty packages of tofu, "How much did you have?" and Ben merely shakes his head. "Ben," he whispers.

"Why doesn't it work?" he stresses.

Doug's quiet for a minute, "There's no good substitute for meat for carnivores. And plant protein is different than animal protein." He recalls, "Don't you remember back when you were working on muscle gain? You complained about how plant protein tasted for those shakes."

Ben sniffles before leaning his head on the cool counter, "What am I going to do?"

"If I may make a suggestion," Doug hesitates, and he waits for Ben to face him, "maybe you could try eating meat again." Ben looks back down. "If you don't you'll hurt someone again. That's a fact."

Ben huffs, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Doug emphasizes. "It's you. It's how you will react or how your parents react when your oh-so-dark secret comes to light." Ben silences, and Doug takes a deep breath as he adjusts his glasses, "Ben. It's really not me I'm worried about, and honestly? If you were eating meat and this was still happening, then I might have just offered to become a donor."

"You would?" Ben shocks.

"Under the condition that you were still eating meat and it wasn't enough," he elaborates before shaking his head. "Seriously, Ben. None of this would even be a problem if you just had some meat." He looks over him, "You were fine before."

Ben eyes away, before he quietly states, "No. I wasn't fine." and looks down at the wrapper-covered counter. "I had crazy wants, bad thoughts… It's just worse now." He places his arms on his knees and holds his hands together, "Meat. Blood. Ripping people apart, tearing the meat away until all that's seen is bone." He sadly laughs, "It's all I can think about now." before he clears his throat. "And…" He gulps, "There's a part of me that wants to give in so badly."

When Ben faces him it takes Doug a moment to respond, "It's okay. Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

When Doug sits at the table and Ben brings his attention to him he begins, "So. Here's the sitch." He faces him, "You're hungry, you're not eating, and if you continue to ignore your body's needs it will take those needs for you." He raises his eyebrows, "Agree with me so far?" and Ben slightly nods. "Good. Now." Doug uncomfortably continues, "So. The way I see it…" before he pulls a pocket knife out and holds it up for Ben to see. "You can either take some from me now, willingly. Or, you can take a lot from some random person later, unwillingly."

Ben's mouth gapes, and he eyes the knife as he shakes his head, "No."

"Ben," he tries to reason. "Last night you just told me you fantasize about mauling people. One of these times you're going to get someone killed."

"I don't care," he shouts, and Doug can see the pained expression on his face. "I'm not doing this."

Doug slightly nods, "Okay, then. I'm going to give you two options." before he opens the knife up to a small blade. "Either I do this and it's pointless or I do this and you go for it."

Ben shakes his head harder, "No." before he watches Doug pull his sleeve up to his elbow. "Don't do it." His eyes widen as he watches the knife touch Doug's skin, and he grits his teeth, "I said stop."

Doug gives Ben a final look, "I'm sorry." before he forces the blade into his skin and pulls it a centimeter before taking it out. He watches Ben stare in a trace, as the blood leaks from the wound. Doug offers permission, "Go for it." and Ben quickly moves in, licking the blood that had dripped down his arm before sucking on the cut. "I just knew you would never ask," Doug softly says, before Ben uses his front teeth to cut in deeper and Doug winces. "I told you. Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

 **Next Up** : Ben and Chad spend the night at the ruins.


	178. Communication is Key

**Communication is Key**

 **(Day 144: Wednesday Night)**

"That's like the thousandth time," Chad complains as he lays the blue sheet over the stone ruins.

"It's Doug," Ben frowns, before he watches Chad lay the blue sleeping bag out over the sheet. "Can you do me a favor?"

He looks up, "What is it?"

Ben steps over to him, and Chad stands up. "I need you to post that we're hanging out tonight, camping or stargazing or something."

He raises his eyebrows, "Seriously?"

"I really don't want to talk to him," Ben mumbles. "Please. Just do it."

"Sure," Chad accepts, before he takes out his phone, "but you're going to have to tell me what happened." He places his arm on his shoulder to take the picture.

Ben watches as he starts to type, "He just made me do something I didn't want to do"

Chad halts, meeting Ben's eyes for a moment, before he questions, "What you mean?"

"It's nothing," Ben bypasses, before he takes a deep breath and wets his lips. "He just made me eat something I didn't want to eat."

"And what's that?"

Ben's eyes shift, and it takes him a minute to face him, "A pound of flesh."

Chad smiles, "Good one." as he laughs.

"Yeah," Ben continues to frown, and he watches as Chad tosses the black sleeping bag onto the blue one.

Chad sits down and pulls the black bag over his legs, "So, what did you eat?"

Ben moves to sit down next to him, "You know that I haven't really been eating meat."

He faces him, "Yeah."

Ben scratches the back of his head, "Well, you see, it's been sort of a psychological problem I've been dealing with." before he glances down. "It just feels wrong to eat it." He takes a breath before facing him again, "But I still find meat pretty irresistible, so… when Doug—" Ben pauses in thought, "He placed this meat right in front of me and coaxed me into eating it."

"And why did he do that, exactly?"

"Thought I wasn't getting enough protein or some shit," Ben quietly says, before he shakes his head and feels the catch in his throat. "It was so bad. There it was; the red, the smell, and it was just there for the taking." He gulps as he feels the tears intrude his eyes, "And I lost it. I just completely lost all control, all along just telling myself that I can't… but it took forever for me to actually just stop." Ben looks into Chad's blue eyes, "I— I thought I wasn't going to be able to stop. I thought that I was going to have it all. And no one was there to stop me."

"Sounds tough," Chad breathes, before he opens the wicker basket and pulls out a red wine bottle, smiling. "Good thing I brought this."

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "You keep trying to liquor me up."

"I'm not trying to do anything," Chad points a finger to his chest, "but make you funner."

"Funner?"

"Yeah," he gives him a look. "Because, you keep turning our dates into some apocalyptic horror movie."

Ben smiles, "Really? It's that bad?"

"Getting there," Chad answers, before he uncorks the bottle. "So, drink up."

He looks around, "Where's the cups?"

"Who said anything about cups?" Chad comments, before he takes a swig from the bottle and offers it to Ben. "Your turn."

Ben takes the bottle and meets his eyes, "To not turning tonight into an apocalyptic disaster." before Chad's smile widens and he takes a drink.

* * *

"There's no one here," Ben notices, as the car pulls in to the front of the school.

"Duh," Chad moves toward him to look out the window. "Everyone's in class."

After the driver opens the door Ben exits and Chad follows him through the courtyard, until they reach the double doors and Ben halts, "We need to do this quietly." He motions a finger for Chad to stay silent, before he lightly presses on the door to slowly open it; however, when a full view of the ground floor can be seen his smile instantly drops at the sight of Fairy Godmother with crossed arms. He awkwardly smiles, "Well, uh, it's a beautiful day to catch a minute of fresh air, isn't it?"

She looks between the two, "Have fun, did we, out by the old Zeus temple?"

"I told you we should've gone in the back," Chad mutters.

"Ah, yes," Ben furrows his eyebrows at him. "Because, cutting through the field during some gym class we have no part in wouldn't be suspicious at all."

"To my office. Now," the headmistress grabs their attention, before she struts off and Ben and Chad give each other an annoyed look before following.

* * *

"Flaming pumpkins," Fairy Godmother breathes. "Why people like doing the dirty in a house of worship is beyond me."

"But it's not a house of worship anymore," Chad inputs. "It's just a bunch of broken rock pillar things."

"And just to be clear," Ben interrupts, "we weren't doing the— We didn't do sex." He glances down in thought, "Or anything."

"Perhaps not," Fairy Godmother accepts, "but the aftermath is still the same." She sighs, "Ben, honestly, at this point I'm starting to wonder if you want me to contact your parents."

"No," he quickly responds with wide eyes.

"You say that," she frowns, "and, yet, I keep seeing you here."

Ben eyes down before huffing, "Most of those aren't even my fault."

"You chose to show here late, didn't you?" she counters.

"I was asleep," Ben disbelieves, before he gives Chad a look. "And this idiot thought that it would be a good idea to let me." Chad grins. "What? Something funny?"

"No," Chad tries not to laugh. "It's just, you should see yourself sleep."

Ben's expression falls, "Why?"

Chad shrugs, "No reason. There's just these little things you do."

"What things?"

He laughs, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"No," Ben asserts. "I want to know."

"Boys," the headmistress interrupts, and they face her. "May we discuss your punishments?"

"Punishments?" Ben frowns.

"For making people worry about you relentlessly," she sternly reminds him, before she looks to Chad, "and for skipping class when you know very well that your grades aren't up to par and you should be studying for exam week."

"That's what make up week is for," Chad excuses.

"No," Fairy Godmother counters. "Make up week is to finish unfinished assignments, which I know you have a fair amount of too."

"That's not my fault," he loudly says.

"Oh? Then whose is it?"

"Carlos," Chad yells. "I've been paying him to help me, but he's been such a sad sap since that breakup or whatever of his. And now it's like when he's there he's not there. And, you know?" Chad breathes, "I had a breakup too— and a shit ton of hell worse too— but do you see me slacking off? No."

The headmistress is quiet for a minute, "I suggest that if you wouldn't like to slack off, that you get some help from your teachers."

"But it's easier to get help from friends," he mumbles. "You can, like, look at each other's notes and things."

"Either find someone else you help you," the headmistress instructs, "or I will ask your teachers how you've been doing." He silences, and she clasps her hands together, letting out a stressed breath.

Ben quietly questions, "Fairy Godmother?"

"Just," she holds up a hand, halting her breath before slowing releasing it. "I need to think." She places her clasped hands beneath her chin, as she rests her elbows on her desk, "Recent injuries mean I cannot offer a physical labor option to either of you. What Ben's doing is practically already in-school-suspension."

"Suspension?" Chad worries. "I thought you were just going to call our parents."

"Just?" Fairy Godmother widens her eyes.

"Well," Chad's eyes shift, "yeah. I'd rather get a talk from my parents than have to like never see my friends for the rest of the year."

"Would you like that to be your punishment?"

"Yes," Chad immediately answers.

She nods, "You may go."

He looks over at him, "What about Ben?"

"I'd like to discuss his options alone, if you please."

Ben watches Chad nod, and he watches him leave out the door before Fairy Godmother begins, "Ben."

He swiftly turns to her, "I don't want you to call my parents."

She slightly nods, "I figured that."

"It's just," Ben excuses, "they wouldn't understand."

"Ben," she slowly questions, "why were you at the ruins with Chad last night?"

He looks down, as he folds his hands, "I had to get away."

"Away from what?" He looks up at her, his eyes shifting in thought, but he fails to speak. "Ben. I know I've said a lot of things over these many weeks, not all of which extremely pleasant, but you must know you can tell me anything."

Ben hesitates, "It's Doug. He's just been too nice, and… he doesn't recognize the danger he's in. He just keeps getting close and wanting to help in any way he can, but—" He takes a long, shaky breath as he feels his eyes become warm. "I don't want him to, and I— I, h-um, am afraid that I could hurt him again."

"But that incident that transpired between you two," she reminds him, "that was an accident, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Ben breathes.

"And do you have any reason to believe it would happen again?" she questions.

"I—" He glances down, "I want to." before facing her. "I don't feel like doing it, but there's this, this urge." Ben shakes his head, "And I don't know how to control it."

Fairy Godmother takes a moment, "I know this isn't quite the same thing, but when you see an attractive lady what do you do?"

Ben shakes his head, "When guys like a girl they go chat them up, try to get into their lives." before he looks off. "If I were to do that with Doug, he would be all too willing to give himself up." He thinks, "It's easier to just avoid him and any potential problems with him."

"So, you're not avoiding him because of the incident?"

He's quiet for a minute, shaking his head, "Why would I?"

"Maybe you feel guilty or uncomfortable," Fairy Godmother suggests, before she notices him look away. "It's a significant thing that happened."

Ben frowns at her, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Have you talked to him about it?" she inquires. "Thoroughly."

He shakes his head, "Not really."

Fairy Godmother nods, "Well, I would start there." before she pauses. "I want you to sit down with him, talk this through, share your feelings and concerns, and make sure he understands. Set rules and boundaries, and stick to them."

"And you really think that would work?" Ben doubts.

"As with any relationship," the headmistress answers, "communication is key."

* * *

\- Date: 01/05/2019

- **Tzei** Thanks for the comments. They were amazing, and I'm very glad to hear you hate me. Lol. Although, I do hope my response to your private message didn't make you uncomfortable or anything. I did share a couple stories that I haven't really before, at least willingly. I thought it was just relevant to what we were talking about, I guess, and this being anonymous makes it easier to say things I probably wouldn't otherwise.


	179. The Only One

**The Only One**

 **(Day 145: Thursday Afternoon)**

When Mal sits at the table Ben is at in the library he notices her folded arms but still attempts to smile, "Hey."

"So," Mal looks him over, "somehow letting me stick around after a movie is too hard for you, but you can spend all frickin' night with Chad where we had our first date."

His smile falters, "Mal."

She widens her eyes, "No. Seriously. First you take him to that restaurant, and now this?" before she laughs in disbelief. "What's next? You want to give him a ring too?"

"It's not like that," he reassures. "I just needed someone last night."

"And you couldn't come to me?"

Ben looks off for a minute before facing her, "No."

Mal leans back in the chair and huffs, "I don't believe this."

"I couldn't be with you," Ben stresses, "because… It's hard to say."

She shakes her head, "Just say it. Or I'll think the worst."

Ben wets his lips, "It's just… When we're together… you like us to be, like, together, and…" He shakes his head, "That's not what I needed last night." He watches her look down in thought, failing to speak. "Please. Trust me."

Mal faces him, "I want to trust you, but I don't believe you." before she pauses. "Chad's completely obsessed with you, and you're just letting it happen. What am I supposed to think?"

"You think I like Chad like the way I like you?" he quietly inquires.

"Assuming that you do like me, yeah," she softly responds.

Ben nods, before he reaches forward to take her hands, "Mal. You are the only one for me. You have to know that."

"I don't."

"Then let me prove it," he strongly answers before nodding. "Let me get some of those trick candles my parents used on you. I can prove you're the only one."

"You would do that?" Mal whispers.

Ben partly smiles, "For you, anything."

* * *

After Ben places the candles into the pumpkin pie he lights them, and Mal turns him towards her, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I need you to know that I'm not cheating on you," he finalizes.

"Yeah, but," she sighs. "Sometimes people can like people without even knowing it."

"And if that's the case you will know."

"The candles don't say who you like," Mal worries.

Ben places a hand to her face, "You can hypnotize me afterwards." before he turns, sitting in the chair before blowing out the candles.

Mal sits down, and she notices Ben's shock over the second flame, "Blow them out."

After two more blows Ben faces her, "I don't know who it is."

Mal frowns with a nod, "Well, I can think of three options." and he waits for her to give them. "Audrey?"

He shakes his head, "No. I mean, she looks nice, but we never really matched." before he meets her eyes. "I only really started dating her, because people thought we should."

"That waitress," Mal continues on.

"Bridget?" Ben disbelieves. "I don't even really know her."

Mal stares at him for a long moment, "Chad."

Ben looks down, using his hands to explain, "Chad and I, we have a strong… whatever." before he faces her. "But I don't think about having sex with him."

"Then who is it?" she irritably questions.

"I don't know," Ben quickly answers, before he slowly stresses, "I don't know."

Mal shakes her head, "You're a guy. Can't you just tell if you like someone?"

Ben's quiet for a minute, "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, then no. It doesn't really work like that. It can happen if I'm looking at someone's beauty or not." His eyes shift down, "Maybe that changes. I don't know. But right now, the answer's no."

"So, you have absolutely no idea who it could be?" She notices Ben wet his lips, "What? What is it?"

He lets out a breath before facing her, "There is someone— someone I care about as much as I care about you— but the candles shouldn't have picked it up."

Mal shakes her head, "Why not?"

"Because," Ben widens his eyes, before he half laughs, "It's different."

"Different?" Mal inquires.

"My mother," he explains, before he shakes his head, "Maybe the candles can pick up on strong family things too."

"Ben," Mal gives him a serious look. "If they could pick up on strong family feelings, then I would have had another candle for Jay. We saved each other's lives more than once. He's always been there for me. If family was a thing, I would have had him for one."

He swallows, as he feels the tears intrude his eyes, "Mal… I don't know who else it could be. I don't love anyone else."

Mal steps forward, placing her hands to his face and looking him over once, before he glows her eyes and stares into his, "Be honest. Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes," Ben whispers, and she moves in to hug him.

She shuts her eyes for a moment, "Then it doesn't matter." Ben catches her smoky scent and tilts his head towards her neck, and his breathing steadies as he takes it in. He opens his mouth more, his teeth hurting with tension, and his stomach growls in gnawing pain; however, as Mal steps away he shuts his mouth, and he watches as she reads the back of the candle box. She hesitates before saying, "These candles were obviously spelled wrong." before she takes the used ones, place them inside the box, and goes to throw them into the trash. Ben stays silent, wanting nothing more than to believe her claim, and when she turns around she holds a bright smile on her face. "What are some stupid candles going to prove anyway?" She walks over and places her hands on his arms, "You love me. You care about me. That's all that matters."

Ben inhales, and her scent somehow feels more compelling than before, "Uh." He gulps before pressing on her shoulder, "I can't do this right now." and he notices her cautious look. "It's just, I'm hungry, and I can't think of what I should or shouldn't be doing."

Mal slowly nods, "Okay, then." before meeting his eyes. "You need some time. It's fine." She attempts one last smile, before she steps away from him; however, when she turns around it immediately slips, and she steals a final glance before exiting the dorm room.

* * *

"Do you really think he likes his mother like that?" Jay questions.

"I don't know what to think." She pours more wine into her glass, "All I know is that just the idea of it being a possibility got him upset."

Jay watches her take a drink, "So?"

"So," Mal continues, "I told him that there's nothing to worry about."

He makes a discontent noise, "Ben doesn't seem like the kind of guy to just let things drop. If he really told you this, then what's stopping him from trying to explain himself?"

"Because," she raises her eyebrows, "I told him the candles were broken. So, now he has no reason to believe he loves anyone like that other than me."

He watches her finish off the glass and pour another, "You're upset."

Mal coughs on her drink, "More like weirded out." before she gives Jay a look. "I mean, his mother— out of all people. How does that even happen?"

"Well," Jay hesitates, "you two are a lot alike."

"Like how?" she doubts.

"Well," he takes a sip from his own glass. "You're both smart, hold your ground… and you do kind of look like her."

"I look nothing like her."

Jay takes a moment to eye her over, "No. I think you do." Mal lets out a deep breath before going for her glass again. "Do you think this changes anything between you?"

"Chad," Mal loudly says. "Chad I was prepared for. All I had to do was get Ben to admit that he had feelings for him." She shakes her head, "I really don't know who I hate more as his, his crush. At least with his mom there's no competition, right? Like, she's happily married— or as happy as any two people can be, at least— and there's that whole…" She looks at Jay, "Is that illegal here? Do you know?" Jay shakes his head in unsureness. "Well. Anyway, it would be better if it's someone he can't even be with no matter what, but at the same time it would just be sooo easier to just sit him down and be like 'Hey. It's okay to like guys too. That's cool.'."

"Just so long as it isn't Chad," Jay inputs.

Mal raises a finger, "Exactly." before she finishes her drink. "You know, I don't know who the hell that candle was for. For all I know it could have been for that stupidly sweet waitress… who also looks a little like his mother." Mal places a hand to her head, before she lifts up the empty wine container, "I think I need another bottle."

"I have a better idea," Jay suggests, before he walks over to her and places his hands on her shoulders. "Why don't we get you to sleep? You can have Carlos's bed."

Mal stands from her chair, "I am so tired right now."

"I know," Jay partly smiles, before he guides her over to the bed. "But things will be better tomorrow."

Mal lays down before looking up at him, "You know how awkward it's going to be the next time I see Belle? 'Cause, not only did Ben tell me this, but the last time I talked to her she said she could get Ben to stop seeing me just by asking him, and he didn't say he wouldn't." Mal's eyes shift, "Thinking about it, it was manipulative as hell." before she pauses. "Do you think she knows?"

"Knows what?"

"That Ben probably likes her," she mumbles. "I mean, she has to, right?"

It takes a minute for Jay to say, "I don't know." before he notices Mal begin to shut her eyes. "I'll get you some milk in case you get thirsty."

"Thank you," she whispers.


	180. Mother

**Mother**

 **(Day 146: Friday Night)**

Doug glances over the soda cans before sitting next to Ben, "You're stressed."

"I'm going to Mal's tonight."

"Another movie date?" Doug questions.

"No," Ben's frown deepens.

"You're not giving her heat or making out or anything," he makes sure.

It takes a minute for Ben to whisper, "I don't know." before he shakes his head. "What if she does want to? How am I supposed to say no?"

"By saying no," Doug easily asserts. "If she doesn't like it, just leave."

"I've tried to say no before," Ben faces him, "but I have no real reason and I'm running out of… well… excuses."

"So, you're not afraid she might hurt you again?" he inquires.

Ben hesitates, "You mean when she…" and Doug nods. "No. I don't think she'll go that far again, and if she does I can talk English now. Better, at least."

"Then what is the problem?"

Ben faces him before glancing off, "I want her."

"Okay." Doug slowly repeats, "So, what's the problem, then?" He notices Ben's face change to a pained expression, before he frowns in realization. "You mean… you want her."

"I want all of her," he whispers, before he looks down at the table. "I want her clothes off. I want my teeth to press into her neck." He feels his heart beat faster, "I want all of her." before he meets Doug's eyes. "Is this some sick power thing? I shouldn't be thinking about having sex with her and, and eating her at the same time. Those don't go together."

Doug adjusts his glasses, "Actually, couples take food to the bedroom all the time."

"But they don't think about killing them," he seethes, and when Doug fails to jump in response he continues, "And I'm not even… I want to do it. I really want to do it."

"Ben," Doug carefully comments, "I need you to understand that this… It's not you. It's your primal, or, uh, animal instinct." He pauses, "But that can be controlled."

"How am I even going to be able to get close to her?" Ben worries. "Even if she just tries to kiss me." He shakes his head, "I'm going to go for her neck, and I won't stop. I can feel it."

"You're just hungry," Doug frowns. "It would be easier for you to ignore that instinct if you were eating."

"That's what you want me to do?" Ben disbelieves. "Is eat?"

Doug looks at him for a minute, "No. I'm saying that maybe we should curb your cravings before you meet her." before he pulls up his shirt to reveal the big circle. "It scabbed over." Ben slowly reaches for the scab, before he moves a nail under the healed portion. Fairy Godmother told him to just say no. He pulls his hand away. She told him to tell Doug his worries, set boundaries, and make rules. Ben faces him. If he tells him, though, then he won't be able to identify that taste he had been too out-of-control to think about last time. "It's okay." Ben looks back down at the scab, before he brings Doug's arm closer and carefully pulls the scab off. He gulps at the sight of flowing red, and he moves in to taste it. He likes it. He knows that, but what is that taste? It's not metal. It never tastes like metal. It's almost sweet, but it's rich in a flavor he can't comprehend. He keeps sucking the blood too fast, and when the flow ceases he bites deeper. He cuts deeper and deeper, until he breaks into a fast flow; however, all he can think about is getting more. He won't be able to identify the taste this time either, and he starts to shake with incoming tears as he helplessly loses control once again. "It's okay," he hears Doug say again, his other hand placed onto his back for comfort, but it's not okay. He isn't okay.

* * *

Ben looks around the room, "So. Evie's at the sleepover."

Mal smiles as she walks forward, before she tugs on his tie, "You're all mine."

"So, ah." He clears his throat, "What will we be doing?"

"Well," Mal slowly answers as she undoes his tie, "If you're okay with it, I was thinking we could spend some time together.

Ben feels the tie get pulled out of his collar, and he holds his hands over hers as their eyes meet, "Can we do something less… together?"

Mal frowns, "Like what?"

He shakes his head, "What do you do for fun?"

"I don't know," she mumbles before looking over him. "What about you?"

Ben glances down, "I don't know." They look about the room, before he breaks the long silence. "What about chess?"

"The board game?" Mal inquires.

"Yeah." Ben uneasily smiles, "What do you think?"

Mal nods, "Okay."

* * *

"Light blue looks so good on you," Evie notices as she paints Jane's nails.

"Really?" she enthuses.

"Totally," Evie smiles, before she puts the brush back into the bottle and twists it shut.

"Okay," Audrey happily sings, and the four girls turn towards her. It's time to change into our pajamas. "Everyone got them?" They chime yes, and Audrey claps her hands together, "Good. Then—" She faces Evie, and a shade of discontent can be seen in her expression. "You. You'll have to change in the bathroom."

"Oh." Evie tenses to keep her smile, "Yeah." before she half laughs. "Of course."

Audrey struts over to the bathroom door, opening it and gesturing a hand to the inside, "Now." Evie stands from the pink beanbag chair and slowly walks over to Audrey, and when she pauses Audrey narrows her eyes at her, "Don't come out until we're finished."

Evie nods and then walks into the bathroom, but then she hears the slamming door and spins around. She walks over to it to test the doorknob, but it's not working. She tries it again, but it still won't budge. She widens her eyes as her breathing quickens, and she slaps the door with her hands, "Let me out." She does it harder and faster, "Get me out of here." but it's useless. She's trapped. Again. She feels the tears sting her eyes, before she leans her arms and forehead against the door, crying out, "Mother." She sobs a couple times before twisting around, sliding her back down the bathroom wall, before she pulls her knees up to her and wraps her arms around them as she rests her forehead on them.

After another minute of her crying Audrey opens the door, "Hey." and Evie looks up at her, trying to wipe the tears away. "It was just a joke."

Evie stands as she hurries past her, and after she runs out of the room Lonnie gives Audrey a look, "How could you do that?"

"It's because of people like her mother that our parents were kept in towers," Audrey reasons. "She should know how it feels."

"But her mother wasn't even one of the villains that locked people up," she disbelieves.

"We don't know that," Audrey asserts as she steps forward. "And Mal is off-limits thanks to you, Ruby's new boyfriend, and Ben."

"You think Ben isn't going to get upset about what you did to Evie?" Jane voices, and when Audrey turns to her she notices her serious, doubtful expression.

"I'm not stupid." Audrey looks over her, "No one's perfect. Get a mirror and you'll see."

When Mal notices Evie enter the room in tears she stands from the bed, "Eves." before Evie immediately rushes over to wrap her arms around her. "What happened?"

"She—" Evie cries into her shoulder, "She locked me in the bathroom. Audrey. She—"

"Audrey did what?" Ben angrily questions, before stands to his feet.

Mal sighs as he marches to the door, "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to talk to her," Ben firmly answers, before he exits the room and strides down to Audrey's door, giving it a loud knock.

When she opens it she frowns, "Ben."

"You locked Evie in the bathroom?" he grits his teeth.

"Just held the doorknob," she excuses.

"Same thing," Ben nearly yells. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking," Audrey stands straighter, "that it's about time those villains got a taste of their own medicine."

"But they're not," Ben outstretches an arm in disbelief. "They're not their parents."

"Might as well be," she counters. "What do you think villains teach their kids?"

"What do I think," he laughs in stress, before he points a hand to his chest, "What do I think? I think that the little time your mother had with Mal's mother is nothing as bad as what they had to live through every day."

"You're just saying that, because you don't understand," Audrey disagrees. "My mother was held up in a tower, powerless. You can't understand that."

"I can't understand that?" Ben's mouth gapes, before he lets out a sad huff, "My father had my mother locked in the tower for a month." He looks over her, "You know that. I told you."

Audrey quiets, "No, Ben. You didn't."

Ben runs a hand over his mouth, "Well, it doesn't matter." before he reaches for the back of his head. "It happened a long time ago."

"Ben," she sadly begins.

"My point is," he stresses, "Mal, Evie, Jay, Carlos— they're not their parents." He nods. "Trust me. When you're the child of the kind of person that locks people in towers," he sternly looks into her eyes as he shakes his head, "you're not treated any better."

The tears shimmer in her eyes, "Ben."

"And if you do anything like this to any of them again," he takes half a step forward, "then I will rip your neck out."

Ruby protectively places a hand on Audrey's shoulder, "You can't do that."

He growls at her, before his eyes pierce into her, "Want to try me?" She fails to respond, a shocked look apparent in her features, before he turns back to Audrey. "If you hurt them, I hurt you. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Audrey whispers, but after he starts to walk away she says, "Ben." and he turns around. "You're not your father. You're good. I know you are."

Ben glances down, "Yeah." before he frowns back at her. "I used to think that too."

After he walks away Ruby turns Audrey around, "Are you okay?"

She wipes the tears from her face, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"We should report him," Ruby thinks. "Tell Fairy Godmother what happened, and—"

"Ruby," Audrey breathes. "I don't need a lawyer right now."

She hesitates, "The sooner you report it, the more seriously you will be taken."

"I'm not reporting anything," Audrey quietly states. "He's in pain. Can't you see? Please. Just let him be."

Ruby sighs before hugging her, "Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

* * *

- **Next Up** : Ben is sent to see the headmistress— again.


	181. There was a King

**There was a King**

 **(Day 147: Saturday Morning)**

"Ben," the headmistress says as he takes a seat.

"Fairy Godmother." She doesn't speak. "Why am I here?"

"Perhaps you would like to tell me that," she starts, before she straightens out the papers on her desk. "Someone said they saw you at Audrey's dorm last night."

He nervously laughs before leaning forward, "Who told you this?"

"I'm keeping my source anonymous."

Ben looks over her, "You're concerned." before he lifts his head up. "It was Jane, wasn't it?" Her silence confirms it, and Ben nods a few times as he looks towards the door and runs a tongue over his teeth.

"She said," the headmistress stresses, "that you— and I quote— threatened to rip Audrey's throat out and then growled to prove you could."

Ben turns back to her and sighs, "I only said that so she wouldn't hurt anyone again." before he gestures. "She made Evie relive a traumatic experience, locked her in the bathroom. I just needed to know it wouldn't happen again."

"So, you threatened to kill her," Fairy Godmother evenly responds.

He glances down, "Sounds like something a beast would do, doesn't it?"

"Ben," she sternly responds. "I've told you before, you're more than your species."

"Am I?" he questions before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. "Animals are defined by their species. How they look, what they eat, how fast or strong they are, people see them a certain way." Ben looks off and mumbles, "Might as well just embrace it."

"Embrace it?" the headmistress raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

He meets her dark brown eyes, "It's not like I have much of a choice."

"You always have a choice," she strongly says.

"No, I don't." Ben shouts with wide eyes. "I don't have a choice. Your species is the core of your being."

"But it's not all you are," she asserts. "Some humans are mean. Some are kind. You can be both a beast and kind."

"Sounds hard," he complains, before he looks down in thought. "It would be easier to just do what the beast wants. Roar at this person. Eat this person." He deeply frowns, "I wouldn't have to think or feel anything. It would be the most perfect thing."

"Am I going to have to call your parents?" she immediately responds.

Ben sits up straight, "No. Please."

Fairy Godmother sighs, "Ben." and she observes him for a moment. "You won't come forward about your parents' clear mistreatment of you, you won't eat, and now these death threats?" before she shakes her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I wouldn't have actually killed her," he quietly states.

"Under normal circumstances I'd be inclined to believe you, but with your lack of nutrition as of late I'm not quite sure what you would do." She pauses, "And if you were being honest, I would guess neither would you." She watches as Ben looks down and folds his hands, "Are you seriously considering embracing it?"

It takes a minute for him to mumble, "It's hard to fight it." before he looks away. "And I can't exactly change what I am." He finds his reflection on the steel file cabinets and turns away from it, "Even an enchantress couldn't save me from this."

When he meets her eyes Fairy Godmother softly speaks, "I need to discipline you for what you did."

"I know," he whispers.

"So," she slowly asks, "what would you like me to do?" He shrugs. "I'm running out of options. At this point, calling your parents is just about the only thing I can think of."

"What if it never happened?" Ben thinks.

"Pardon?"

He faces her and wets his lips, "Mal. What if I can get her to make me forget about what I am, everything that goes along with it?"

"I fail to see how that would help anything," the headmistress remarks.

"No. It would." He takes a breath, "A big reason why I haven't been having meat is because of how it relates to… to what I am, and, uh." Ben hesitates, "If I don't know what I am, then I will be less likely to act on the thoughts I get." before his eyes shift. "I'd be too busy telling myself how crazy it is."

"Ben." The headmistress cautiously comments, "I don't want to force you to get memory loss just because you don't want me to call your parents."

"You wouldn't be forcing me." He hurriedly explains, "I've thought about doing it before." He lets out a breath, "I've just been too much of a coward to go through with it."

"I can't punish you with memory loss." She emphasizes, "That's completely unethical, not to mention illegal."

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Do what you have to." before he faces her. "But I'm going to do it, so just know that if it does work you can't tell me the real reason I'm in trouble."

She's silent for a minute, "When?"

"Tonight," he nods. "I'm going to ask Mal tonight."

* * *

When Evie opens the door Ben uneasily smiles, "Is Mal here?"

"Yeah," she raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah." He nods fast, "Okay."

"Need to come in?" she questions.

"Yes," Ben immediately says with wide eyes.

Evie opens the door wider, but she notices him standing still, "Well. Come on."

Ben keeps his eyes on Mal as he walks towards her, "Hey."

She partly smiles, "Hey." His heart beats faster, and Mal bends her neck down as she looks up at his frozen expression. "Ben?"

He wets his lips, "I need your help."

"My help?" Mal slightly shakes her head. "How?"

"I—" He lets out a large breath, before he looks back at Evie.

She frowns, "I'll give you two some privacy." and after she leaves he turns back to Mal.

She offers him a serious look, "You're scaring me."

"Sorry," he apologizes. "It's just—" Ben faces her and attempts a calming breath, but he gulps, finding himself just as nervous as before.

"Ben?" His eyes shift. "What is it?"

He feels the tears intrude his eyes, and he clears his throat, "So." He wets his lips again, "There was a king. This king, he, uh." He takes a shaky breath, "He had a lot of secrets, and even if his life looked good, it wasn't. It was hard." His voice cracks, and he clears it again, "Things got even harder when he learned he wasn't, that he wasn't human." He blinks, and a couple tears fall. "His life, it tore apart. Everything he knew, to ashes. He wanted so much for it not to be true, and he tried to be as human as he could." He gulps before his voice raises in pitch, "But people got hurt, and he knew he couldn't do it anymore." Ben attempts to smile as he takes Mal's hands, "So. He goes to his beautiful girlfriend and asked her to take the pain away, to help him forget about what he is."

It takes a minute for Mal to comment, "You can't just forget what you are. If you think you're human, you'll think meat is a choice."

"My choice," Ben gets a grip of himself. "I would want it, and I would eat it. By choice."

"And why can't you just do that now?"

He notices her sad expression, and he frowns, "I don't like doing things that make me remember what I am."

"And what's so wrong with being what you are?" she whispers.

Ben's silent for a long moment, "I just can't do it."

"You've been a hybrid your whole life," Mal asserts. "Nothing's changed."

He quiets, "I see things more. And everything I see, it's the beast. I'm never me anymore. It's always just it."

"Ben," Mal sighs. "You're not making any sense."

"What I eat," Ben begins. "How I heal, how strong I am, the way I am, it's all because of the beast. And I just—" He makes a pained expression, "I hate that everything is just about what I am now. I hate that I can't be just me now."

"And you think you will be any more you when you forget?" Mal smiles in disbelief. "Ben. Just think. For one second. All of the conversations you've had with people about this, all of the times you've thought or did things because of it." She stresses, "You will forget a shit ton of things if I do this. You will have big, black holes if this works— if I can do it at all."

"I don't care," he half laughs, before he lifts their hands and steps closer to her. "Please, Mal. I really need this."

Her eyes shine, "I can't lose you."

"You wouldn't lose me," he promises. "It would be like when you first got here. I liked you then. If you do this—" He moves some lose curls behind her ear, "I will still love you."

She nervously laughs, "And what if I decide I don't want to hypnotize you?"

Ben glances down, "I don't want to think about that." before he squeezes her hands tighter. "Please, Mal. I don't know what more I could do."

She nods, quietly saying, "Okay." before she places her hands to his cheeks and swipes his tears with her thumbs. She takes a deep breath as she glows her eyes, "Listen to me. Forget that you're a hybrid, about being a beast, and any conversation you have had about it since you found out your species. You will think you're human." Her voice shakes, "You are human, just like your mother. You and your father are not beast hybrids." before the tears fall to her cheeks. "The curse broke completely."

After her eyes stop glowing Ben blinks, before he looks down at the floor; however, the next moment he faces her and places a hand to her cheek, "Hey. What's wrong?"

Mal shakes her head, forcing a smile, before she hurries to wipe her tears away, "Nothing." She looks at him and quietly says, "I'm just glad you're here."

He takes her hands, "And I will never leave you."

She hesitates, "You tried to before."

Ben sighs, "I was being an imbecile." before he reaches for her hair. "How could someone leave someone so beautiful?" He moves in to hug her, "I love you. You know that."

"I know," Mal frowns, before she hears Ben make a disgruntled noise. She steps back and sees his head turned away with his eyes shut, "What's wrong?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing. Just feels like I haven't ate in days." and he faces her before shifting his eyes in thought. "How about we go out for dinner?"

"Dinner?" Mal unsurely says. "I just had dinner." Ben looks down at the floor, and she attempts to smile, "But I could talk to you and have some dessert, I guess."

Ben smiles at her, "Really?" and she merely nods before he steps forward, takes her hand, and lifts it up to kiss it. "You're too good to me."

* * *

\- Posted: 01/18/2019

-Hey. Sorry for the long wait. i should probably say I got that job I mentioned before, but I get Thursday nights off so hopefully you should start seeing stuff around then.


	182. A Second Chance

**A Second Chance**

 **(Day 148: Sunday Evening)**

"Mal," Ben's eyes widen, as he opens the door and sees her.

"I was going to knock," she excuses.

He shakes his head, "What are you doing here?" before he notices her purple, lacy top and black skirt.

"I want to start going to dinner with you again," Mal insists.

His mouth gapes, "Yeah." He laughs, "Of course." before nodding. "It will be good to have you there."

She hesitates, "Does your father still hate me?"

"My father doesn't like anyone," Ben frowns. "It's nothing…" He wets his lips and shifts his eyes, "It's nothing."

"Nothing personal," Mal finishes. "It doesn't feel that way."

It takes a minute for Ben to admit, "He doesn't like magic. That fairy witch made his life hell." Ben takes her hands, "You just need to get him to see you as you, not your species."

Mal laughs through a nervous grin, "Right. That's all I need to do."

"You'll find a way," Ben reassures, before he moves the curly hair away from her jade green eyes. "You always do."

* * *

When Ben and Mal enter the dining room his mother offers a surprised expression, "Mal?" before she stands to her feet.

"Hey," she unsurely smiles, before she guides Ben to the table.

"I wasn't expecting you here."

"I stopped coming because I didn't want to force Ben to speak English, but his English is better now." Mal frowns, "I'm happy to be here."

Belle nods, "And we're happy to have you here." but then her husband groans in discontent. She looks back at Mal and gestures to the chair, "Please. Take a seat."

After they all sit there's a long silence, Mal noticing Belle and Adam giving each other looks, before Ben quietly places the turkey, gravy, and stuffing onto his plate. He points at the black glop, "What's that again?"

His mother glances between it and him, "Black pudding." before he nods and pokes his fork into the slice of turkey. He takes a bite and then lets out a stressed breath, as he feels their stares. He faces his mother, "What is it?"

"It's just," she starts. "It's been a little hard to get you to eat lately."

"Right," Ben recalls, before he sets down the fork. "I don't know why." He lifts a shoulder, "It just felt wrong, I guess." before he shakes his head. "But it's fine now."

"It's fine now?" his father repeats with squinted eyes.

Ben glances down, "I should use the bathroom. Excuse me." before he stands up.

Mal watches as he walks out to the hallway, but when she hears Ben's father angrily question, "What did you do?" she swiftly turns back to him.

"Adam," Belle intervenes. "We don't know that she's done anything."

He turns to her, "You're the most important thing to him, and even you couldn't get him to eat. How could she?"

"She's his girlfriend," she evenly reminds him.

"She's a fairy," he seethes. "This is obviously magic."

Mal shuts her eyes hard and shouts over him, "It wasn't magic." before she opens them and finds the two staring at her. She quietly explains, "He came to me for help… and I gave it to him."

"Mal," Belle breathes. "What did you do?"

She tilts her head to the side in unsureness, "I made him forget about what he is."

"What he is?" Belle repeats.

"About being a beast." Mal's eyes shift, "Being a hybrid."

"You had no right to do that," Adam insists.

"He needed me to do it," she laughs in disbelief. "You should have seen him. He begged me to do it." There's a second of silence, before she whispers, "I think he was thinking about finding another way to get away from it if I didn't do it for him."

"Another way?" Belle questions.

"That he was going to off himself," Mal slowly explains, and her eyes shift. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"What are you talking about?" Adam sternly questions.

Mal faces him, "At the dance. Ben went to the roof and tried to jump." before her eyes shift to Belle. "I saved him… Or, uh, me and Chad saved him." She looks down, "I was taking it personally and probably gave up sooner than I should have."

"God," Belle whispers, and Adam takes her hand.

"But he's fine now," Mal reassures. "He said he was being an imbecile, that he doesn't know how he could have left someone like me." She thinks, "Whatever happened, I think it was just stress, trying to deal with finding out what he was."

"As a new king," Belle mulls over, "he probably wouldn't have had the time to process it properly."

"We need to tell him," Adam decides.

"But he's good now," Mal widens her eyes. "You want to screw that up?" She notices his change of expression and lets out a breath, "Pardon my lack of French."

"He needs to know what he is," Adam insists. "Him forgetting isn't going to change it."

"You think I wanted this?" Mal furiously whispers, before she feels her eyes start to burn. "I am so afraid of what this will do, now that he thinks him and I aren't… the same."

Belle looks over Mal before inputting, "He can't find out on his own again." before she turns towards Adam. "He needs time to process this."

"He can't process it if he can't remember it," his brows furrow.

"But we can help him accept himself before we tell him," Belle says, but her husband merely grumbles. "We need to do it better this time. Mal gave us a second chance, don't you understand? We can tell him that it's okay to be different, teach him that hybrids aren't any different than humans." She nods to Mal, "We could take him to a meeting, have him meet other hybrids under the guise of only wanting to support his girlfriend effectively."

"Absolutely not," Adam disagrees.

She turns back to him and sighs, "We need to do something."

"We're not making this public," he asserts.

"We wouldn't be." Belle attempts to explain, "We'd just be—" before she notices Ben enter the room and silences.

When he sits back down he looks between them, "Did I… Were you talking about something I can't hear?"

Belle turns towards Adam, and he lets out a breath, "Your girlfriend told us what happened at the dance."

Ben's eyes shift down, "Right."

"You should have told us," he evenly opinionates, before Ben meets his eyes with a frown. "Do you even know why you did it?"

Ben observes his father's features, so much like those of that statue which mocks him each day. "I—" A pillar of greatness inscribed with pretty words, depicting just how regal and righteous he was: a savior of them all. Ben opens his mouth to speak, before he glances at Mal and then turns his head back up to his father, "I was tired of living a lie."

His mother inquires, "What do you mean?" but he simply looks down and shrugs a shoulder in response. They sit in silence for a good while, before Ben finishes his plate and she asks, "How would you like to try some pudding?"

Ben eyes the black glop, "I don't know how I feel about that."

Mal thinks up, "I'll try it if you try it."

He turns to her, "Do you even know what's in black pudding?" and she waits for him to answer. "Blood."

"Obviously not that much if a human can have it," she retorts, and when Ben makes a discontent noise she says again, "I'll try it with you."

Ben turns to his mother, "Will you try it?"

She hesitates, "Sorry. I don't have the appetite."

Mal notices his sad expression, "Hey." and when he turns back to her she tries to smile. "I said I'd try it with you."

It takes a moment for Ben to nod, "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

 **Next Up** : Carlos's Birthday


	183. Make a Wish

**Make a Wish**

 **(Day 148: Sunday Night)**

"Carlos here?" Aziz asks Evie.

Carlos walks into view, and Evie opens the door wider. "Hey." He steps forward, "What's going on?"

"Well," Aziz evenly responds. "We kind of have this party going on." He looks him over, "Did you not get my text?"

"No. I did," Carlos rushes in unsureness, before he quiets. "It's just… I don't really feel in the party mood right now."

"That's too bad." Aziz smirks, "We got this chocolate cake, but I guess we're just going to have to eat it without you."

"Chocolate cake?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Well, it is your birthday, isn't it?"

Carlos's eyes shift, his brows furrowing, before he meets his, "Is it?"

"I have it on good authority from the king that it is."

"Oh," Carlos continues to frown.

Aziz frowns in return, "What? Do you not celebrate your birthday?" before he rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, I know atheists aren't really supposed to." He makes a noise, "But, I mean, most do as a, uh, social custom, I guess."

"I'm not atheist," Carlos thinks. "I'm nonreligious."

"Then, what's the problem?"

Carlos's mouth opens before he mumbles, "It's just never really been a thing." before he looks down. "My birthday… It's kind of like a joke."

Aziz smiles, "Well, maybe I can change that."

Carlos looks back at Mal and Evie, and Mal asserts, "Well. What are you waiting for? Get out of here, you wuss."

He laughs as he turns back to Aziz, "Where's this party again?"

* * *

"Hey. There he is," William announces, as Aziz brings Carlos into the dorm. He turns towards the brown haired guy, "Brendan, get the lighter."

Carlos slowly walks up to the black cake with white, loopy writing, before Brendan searches his pockets and pulls out a vape pen, "Uh. I don't think I have a lighter anymore."

Aziz glances between him and the metal stick, "There's twenty times more nicotine in those than an actual cigarette."

"Not this," he puts it back in his pocket. "I get the ones without nicotine."

"And you're sure you're getting the right ones?" Aziz questions.

"Yeah," he confidently answers, and Aziz nods.

"So," William announces. "We have a birthday cake unlit candles."

Carlos unzips a pocket of his black leather vest, and the others stare as he pulls out a blue lighter. He frowns as he hands it to William, "Here." and when he continues to stare at him Carlos places his other hand to the back of his neck. "You can keep it." He uncomfortably smiles, "If you want."

He takes it, looking over him, "Why do you have a lighter?"

Carlos opens his mouth to speak, before he looks over the three of them and then eyes the floor, "I, uh…" He faces him, "I used to…" before he lets out a breath and looks away. "It's crazy." No one speaks, and he takes a deep breath before meeting his blue eyes, "You know how, uh, my mother used to put cigarettes out on me." He hesitates, "Well, um." and his eyes shift. "That didn't stop when I got here."

"But she's not here," Brendan points out.

"No," Carlos mumbles. "She's not."

"You self-harm," William frowns.

"Not anymore," he hurriedly defends with wide eyes, before halts in hesitation, "I, uh." His eyes shift, "I stopped." before he faces him again. "I stopped." There's a long silence, and he looks around the room, "Where's Li? Isn't he usually at these things?"

"Right," Aziz recalls, and Carlos turns towards him. "He wasn't really comfortable coming to this." He thinks for a moment, "He wants to stay… neutral about certain things."

Carlos looks down, "I get it." before he turns back to William and watches as he lights the fifteen candles. He attempts to smile at him, "Make a wish, and blow them out."

Carlos pulls the chair out and then sits, staring at the golden flames as his breath causes them to flicker. What he wants, something he wants more than anything. All he can think of is one thing. He imagines Jay's girlfriend breaking up with him and him swearing off girls forever, becoming the perfect boyfriend: telling him his feelings and thoughts, giving him chocolates, and satisfying his needs comfortably. Carlos looks down, away from the cake. That would be a problem. He doesn't like hurting him. He doesn't believe it makes him feel the way it does.

"Carlos?" Aziz questions, and he watches as he sits down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Carlos looks back at the cake, "Is it wrong to wish someone pain?"

"You're in pain yourself," Aziz contemplates.

"That doesn't answer my question," he comments as he notices the wax drip down the red candles onto the black frosting.

"These candles aren't enchanted," he lets him know. "You can wish for whatever you want to."

Carlos runs his hand over the hot flames, but he still feels so cold, "I wish… I get whatever life I deserve." before he observes the flames for another moment and slowly blows them out.

When Carlos looks back down at the table William hands him a paper plate, "You can take the candles out and put them on here, lick the chocolate off if you want to." Carlos merely nods, before William picks up the empty box of candles and goes to throw it away; however, when he sees the small font on the front of the box he halts. He reads it again and stares at it for a moment, before he taps his friend on the shoulder and Aziz turns around. He shows the box to him, and Aziz deeply frowns. "What do we do?"

Aziz looks over his shoulder and sees Carlos turn towards them, before he faces William, "It's recyclable. Take it to the recycling bin in the hall."

It takes a minute for him to say, "Sorry."

Aziz sternly comments, "Next time, double check to make sure you're not getting something with such an expensive price."

William hesitates, "I didn't know."

He looks off, "It could have been worse." before he faces him and sighs. "Just learn from this and move on. It's fine."

"Thanks," he continues to frown, before he heads out of the room.

"What was that about?" Carlos asks.

Aziz turns towards him, "It's the candles. I don't like the ones he got."

"Why?"

"Because," he thinks, "the company uses unholy means to make a profit."

"Unholy means?" he inquires.

Aziz takes a breath, "Their things tend to be high in price." before he pulls a cupcake out from the cake and smiles. "Have a piece."

Carlos slowly takes it, "They're cupcakes?"

"Yeah. Pretty cool, right?"

Carlos stares down at the chocolate cupcake, and he sadly smiles, "Last year Jay stole me an entire box of these from the bakery. And then we shared them." He sets it down, "It was…"

"Sweet," Aziz frowns.

"I was going to say nice," Carlos softly speaks, before he looks at him, "But. Yeah." William comes back into the room and Carlos hears his phone, but when he takes it from his pocket Aziz takes it from him. He glances between him and the phone, "What does it say?"

Aziz swipes the phone, "You need a password." before he goes to the texts.

Carlos notices the expression on his face, "Who is it?"

He shakes his head, "Jay." before he turns the screen back to black and slides it into his own pocket. "The selfish jerk wants to know if you're coming to the game Saturday."

"Coach has been wondering too," Brendan inputs.

Carlos looks at him, "Don't worry. I'll be there." before he picks the cupcake back up. "I just… I can't be his shield right now."

"You've been getting better," William comments. "It would be a shame to lose you now that, well, you're doing better."

"You have potential," Aziz agrees, and Carlos faces him. He doesn't speak. He just looks him over. "What?"

Carlos meets his dark brown eyes and whispers, "You're nothing like him." and he examines his features again. "You look like him. But you're nothing like him."

It takes a moment for Aziz to say, "It must be hard, looking back at the relationship you had with him and seeing where it went wrong, how things changed."

"It is," he admits.

After another moment Aziz suggests, "If it's hard for you to see me right now, I can leave. It's okay."

Carlos shakes his head, "No. I want you to stay." before he forces his eyes away from him and takes a bite of his cupcake. "Are you having one?"

"Can't," he answers, and when Carlos looks back he notices his half smile. "I'm fasting for Ramadan."

"Ramadan?" he inquires.

"It's the most holy month on the Islamic calendar," he explains. "It marks the time that the profit Mahammad was given the Quran by the archangel Gabriel. During the month we observe the five pillars of faith and practice self-restraint and self-reflection."

"And you're fasting for this?" Carlos's eyebrows rise. "For the whole month?"

"No," William answers. "Just him." Carlos turns towards him, and he whispers with a smile, "He's manorexic."

Aziz stares him down, "People with illnesses aren't required to fast." before he takes a deep breath. "Technically, you're allowed a meal at dawn and dusk."

Carlos faces him, "But you don't do that?"

He hesitates, "I do it as little as possible."

"Why?"

He looks down, "Fasting is about purifying the soul." before he meets his eyes. "And I want my soul to be pure." He looks over him before eyeing the table, "I want to rid myself of sin, physically manifested or otherwise." Carlos fails to speak, so he mentions, "You're also not allowed to drink water during the day or kiss your significant other."

"Wait," Carlos disbelieves. "Not even kiss? At all?"

"At least during the day," he explains.

"What about people who are usually awake at night?" he questions. "Would that change anything at all?"

Aziz takes a moment, "Considering that we're supposed to pray at dawn, noon, afternoon, dusk, and night, I don't see anyone being awake at night. Not like that."

"Whoa," Carlos comments. "How can you find the time for that?"

"You don't find time for God," he asserts. "You make time." He remembers the Quran and looks at where it lays on his bedside table. He needs to finish it.

"So," Carlos inquires, "how much longer will you be fasting for?"

Aziz looks back at him and frowns, "Tomorrow. Ramadan ends tomorrow."

"So, we should save some cupcakes for you," he smiles.

"You can," he comments, before he looks back at where they holy book is. He needs to finish it by the end of tonight.

"Aziz?"

He looks back at Carlos and slowly says, "We were thinking about putting on a movie and playing a couple board games."

"Yeah. Okay," he immediately responds.

Aziz nods, and as William finds a movie he sets the game up. They sit around the four colors, and after several moves Aziz picks up the blue pawn. He moves it back four spaces and places the yellow pawn back at start, whispering, "Sorry."

* * *

\- Posted: 01/26/2019

-It's starting to look like I lied about finishing this this month. I really wanted to, but it really is a time management thing. I only have about an hour or two before and after work, but I have that set aside to eat and things. I'd probably be too tired to write anything coherently during those times too, so I'm just going to have to get better at using my day off more efficiently. Hopefully I can. I tried to start writing these Wednesday, but I kept falling asleep at my desk... Which, uh, I've been doing more often than I'd like to admit. Even on work days. It's bad.


	184. Worthy

**Worthy**

 **(Day 149: Monday Morning)**

Ben takes a bite of the scrambled eggs and ham, before he looks between Aziz and the Quran, "I thought Ramadin was done."

"Ramadan," he corrects, "was officially over as of sunrise."

"But you're still skipping meals to read that," Ben comments in confusion.

Aziz takes a deep breath, "One of the pillars is faith. It's highly encouraged to read the entire book before the end of Ramadan." before he shakes his head. "I could have just gone to mosque and listened to it being read, but no. I thought spending ten hours on a train every weekend would be too time-consuming."

"They go through it on the weekend?"

"Every night during Ramadan," he answers. "But I could have caught up on the train."

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "That still doesn't answer why you're still doing this."

He faces Ben with wide eyes, "I didn't even acknowledge the charity pillar this month. I can't just not read this too."

"So…" Ben offers a discontent expression, "What then?"

"I'm going to finish it."

Ben watches him turn back to the book, "What about breakfast? Lunch?"

"I'll eat when I'm dead," Aziz stresses, and when Ben starts to speak again he turns to him. "Please," he emphasizes, "just let me do this right now. I need to get it done."

Ben frowns, "Does Coach know about this?"

"What?" Aziz counters. "You didn't see me stuck on the bench half the month?" Ben doesn't speak, and he sighs, "Of course Jenkins knows."

* * *

"I am sorry," Jay tries to apologize. "I shouldn't've let you lie."

Carlos sighs, "Do we need to do this right now?" as he stares out at the field.

"You can't stay in the girls' dorm forever."

"The school year's almost done, dumbass," he mumbles.

Jay shakes his head, "You can't hate me forever."

Carlos swiftly turns towards him and shouts, "I don't hate you." and after he realizes what he had done he glances around at the stares.

It takes a moment for Jay to whisper, "I know." and Carlos meets his eyes again. "You're not mad. You're upset."

He scoffs, "Understatement of the year." before he looks back out at the practice game.

"What can I do?"

Carlos takes a shaky breath, "Say it meant something." He meets his dark brown eyes and stresses, "Tell me I was more than just some tissue you could use."

He nods, "You were more than just a tissue to use."

Carlos narrows his eyes, "You suck at apologies."

"Look," Jay sighs. "I said I'm sorry." Carlos doesn't respond, and he takes a breath, "I didn't mean… I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

Carlos mumbles, "Maybe you shouldn't have hurt me at all."

"I never wanted to," he quietly points out.

Carlos gulps as he feels his eyes warm, before he faces him, "You were my first everything. Everything." before he shakes his head. "You know how much that hurts? How much I trusted you, let you in, and take hold of me, and… now you don't."

It takes a minute for Jay to counter, "You're only fourteen. You'll get over it."

"Fifteen." He seethes, "I'm fifteen." before he notices his expression change. "Or did you forget that you fucking trousseur de jupons, branleur?"

Jay doesn't react, "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Carlos rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, "Where do you think I got that mouth from?"

"No. Seriously," he frowns. "What did you say?"

Carlos half smiles, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Jay lets out a breath, "It wasn't just my fault. We both did this wrong." but Carlos keeps his attention on the players. "We should just move on."

"Shut up."

"I mean it," he asserts. "We were friends once. I messed that up when I started things. I get that."

"No. Shut up," Carlos urgently comments as he straightens up. "Look at Aziz."

Jay notices his staggering run, "That's not strategy."

Carlos's eyes shift down, before he realizes, "He's dehydrated." He stands up and steps towards the coach, but before he can even get close he hears the voices concern when Aziz falls to the ground. Carlos can't help but stare, just waiting for him to stand, as the coach shouts to ask how he is; however, when Jenkins begins to run over to him Carlos does the same. He kneels down and shakes him, "Aziz." and when his eyes open Carlos holds the water bottle over him. "Here." Aziz shakes his head, and he irritably responds, "Don't be an idiot. Drink it."

"I'm fine," Aziz whispers as he leans up on his arms, but the next moment Carlos notices his eyes roll backward before his arms give way and he falls back onto the grass.

* * *

When Aziz hears his father's voice he opens his eyes, turning his head and seeing him at the door, "Dad?"

His dad walks over and takes a seat, and when Aziz goes to scratch the itch on his arm he notices an IV running up to a bag. "We live in a desert," he quietly states, and Aziz turns back to him, mouth slightly gaped and ready for explanation. "You know the symptoms of dehydration."

"I," Aziz begins, but his mouth shuts and he looks down.

"They also found low glucose levels," his father frowns, and he waits for him to face him. "You've been trying to break your record again."

"It's not like that," he tries to reassure.

His dad nods, "Please. Explain."

It takes a minute for Aziz to collect his thoughts, "I failed Ramadan." and he notices his father shift in his seat. "I still need to read the Quran. I wanted to continue the fast until I finished it, but I was going to stop after that. I promise." His father merely nods. "I didn't find time to do the charity. I needed to at least do this."

His father meets his eyes, "Ramadan is over when it's over. This isn't some school project you can just make up."

"I know," he looks down. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "Why do you do this to yourself?"

Aziz looks back up, "Do what?"

"This," his dad slightly shakes his head. "You keep doing this. It's the same behavior all year 'round." Aziz opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. "This competition you have with yourself to see how long you can go without food, this enormous restraint from romantic adventure, and just… everything you do. You're not a monk. You need food. You need water. You need human connection."

Aziz whispers, "I know."

"So why?" his dad asks again. "Why do this to yourself?"

He takes a breath, "I told you. I had to finish reading the Quran. If I didn't do my best for Ramadan, then my fast wouldn't be accepted as sacrifice."

"And we just went over this," his father counters. "This isn't a singular occurrence. You've been here before." He enunciates, "Right here, before."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," his father seriously answers. "Just help me understand."

It takes a moment for Aziz to slowly admit, "I'm not… pure." and he hesitates to continue. "I get bad thoughts."

"Everyone gets bad thoughts," his dad reasons. "All we can do is practice self-restraint and not act on them."

"So, you're saying that even fasting couldn't purify my soul?" Aziz disbelieves.

His dad pauses, "Your mom will disagree with me, but I wouldn't take that fact so literally." He thinks, "You see… When people are less focused on their own needs, they're more able to pay attention to other beings— to God's grace. That's all it is. Fasting opens you up to the world around you, things you might not have noticed or thought of otherwise." Aziz doesn't speak, and he takes a moment, "I don't want you fasting anymore."

"What?" Aziz exasperates.

"You're not using fasting as a tool to get closer to God or humbleness," he explains. "You get lost in it. When you fast, you're focused on the fast. For you it's not about limiting your indulgences. It's a self-serving act that will lead to your destruction. God wouldn't want that for you."

"Fasting is obligatory for Ramadan," he reminds him.

"And there's a safe and proper way to do it." Aziz silences, and his father faces him, "If you fast at all before next year without my permission or a good reason, then I am going to recommend to your mother that we don't let you engage in the fast for Ramadan."

"Only people with illness are excused from fast," Aziz defends.

His father calmly responds, "Prove to me that you're not, and you can. Properly."

"I don't have an eating disorder," Aziz huffs. "I just—" He feels the tears intrude his eyes, "I just want to be good. I want to be worthy."

"You are worthy," he reassures.

Aziz laughs, "You don't know anything about me."

"Yes. I do," his dad says. "I've been where you are."

"No," he doubts. "You haven't."

His father sighs, "Did you pray this month?"

Aziz attempts to settle down, "Yes."

"All of the prayers?" he makes sure.

"Yes," Aziz whispers again.

His dad nods, "Practice charity and reading the Quran every month. Continue to pray regularly, and you will be worthy of God. And next year…" He meets his eyes, "You will learn, and you will do better." Aziz doesn't speak, merely looking down. His father attempts to smile, "Now." and Aziz looks at him. "How about we trade that IV for a bottle of water and go out to dinner? And desert, anything you want."

Aziz continues to frown, "No."

His father's expression falters, "Why?"

"I don't deserve it," he softly answers. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," his dad asserts. "And you do. You do deserve it." Aziz faces him. "Every human deserves to eat."

"I'm a sinner," he lets his father know.

"We're all sinners," his dad informs. "Just pray for forgiveness, learn, and do better."


	185. Private

**Private**

 **(Day 150: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"How are you doing?" Fairy Godmother asks.

Ben narrow his eyes in suspicion as he slowly says, "Fine."

She sighs, "Ben." before she straightens the items on her desk. "I would like to hear your side of the story for what happened on the night of Audrey's sleepover."

Ben's eyes shift down, "Right." and she waits for him to continue. He meets her dark brown eyes, "Audrey. She invited Evie to this sleepover, just so she could lock Evie— or, uh, hold the door shut on Evie— while she was in the bathroom."

"And then what happened?"

"Evie came back to the dorm and told us what happened." He pauses in thought, "I… I went to see Audrey. To make sure it didn't happen again. I just wanted to talk, to reason with her. But." He looks off, "I lost it, I suppose." Ben faces her, "I was too close to the situation."

"Are you saying you lost it, because you're biased towards Mal and therefor Evie?"

"No," Ben immediately answers, but it takes a minute for him to think it through. "Audrey did what she did, because her mother was kept in a tower by a villain." He takes a deep breath, "But what she did, she recreated the situation of abuse of which Evie had suffered from for years prior to coming here." He looks down, "I understand both situations." before he frowns up at the headmistress. "And that's why I took it so personally. When Audrey and Ruby went through with their plan, it made them no better than the villains who put their parents in the towers in the first place."

"I thought it was only Audrey who was involved?"

He shakes his head in contemplation, "No. Audrey wouldn't have done this if it was only for herself. It was because other people had suffered too that she wanted… justice."

"Is that what you would call it?" the headmistress questions. "Justice?"

"No," he evenly answers. "But she would. She doesn't do bad things, not purposely."

It takes a long moment for Fairy Godmother to ask, "Do you remember exactly how you lost it with Audrey?"

Ben lets out a breath, "No." before he looks off. "When I get upset it's hard for me to remember what happened afterwards. I just know what happened, without details. I don't remember any words… or the order it happened in, even." She nods, and he looks at her before whispering, "Why am I here? We already discussed this."

"Yes," the headmistress agrees. "However, I haven't disciplined you for it yet."

"You said you didn't know what to do with me," he recalls.

"But now I do," she slightly nods before pausing. "It would do you well to get your emotions under control, whether provoked or not. As king, you need to be able to remember a situation, assess it, and learn so that you can do better next time."

"I had reason to be upset," he irritably defends.

"Like I said, whether provoked or not," she sternly says again, before she softly continues, "Now. Wolves are infamous for their aggression, but they are even more famous for how they've learned to harness their intense emotions."

"I'm not a werewolf," Ben points out.

"What you are," the headmistress reminds him, "is a young man in a very unstable, ever-changing environment, who is expected to uphold the weight of this country's rule." He looks down, and she continues, "What has happened was meant to be. Your father's anger and your mother's diplomacy brought the country together. But now, they need someone who can keep them together." He meets her eyes. "That will be easier if they know they have a steady, empathetic ruler to rely on." He lets out a breath, and she reassures, "You've given people hope. And that's a good thing."

"My parents have told me my entire life that I need to keep my emotions under control so that I won't get sick," Ben disbelieves as he feels the tears intrude his eyes, "and now you too are saying I shouldn't display them."

"I am not saying that at all," she staccatos. "I am saying you need to learn how to express your emotions in a healthy manner."

"I still don't understand."

It takes her a moment, "My punishment for you is for you to look up how wolves deal with their emotions, and I want you to write a report on it and bring me a copy so I know you have done so."

"I fail to see how this will help," he breathes.

"It will give you the tools you need," Fairy Godmother informs. "Not everything works for everyone. But the ones that will help you, you will learn how to use at your own leisure."

"And Audrey?" he inquires.

"I will speak with her," she promises.

"Thank you."

The headmistress nods, "You are very welcome."

* * *

When Ben notices Audrey walk into the kitchen he comments, "Hi."

Audrey looks over him, "Hi." before she cautiously walks towards him. She notices the large mixing bowl of cheesy potatoes and ham. "That's a lot of food." He puts down the fork, before she asks, "Is that a hybrid thing?"

He turns towards her, slightly shaking his head, "What do you mean?"

"That you're a hybrid," she explains. "Is that how you can eat so much?"

It takes Ben a long moment to say, "I'm not a hybrid."

"Ben," Audrey gives a look. "You told me. You can't just try to hide it now."

"When did I ever say that?" he doubts.

"Uh," Audrey nearly laughs, "how about when you charged into the girl's bathroom and threatened me to stop that petition?"

"Petition?"

"Yes," she asserts.

"What's a petition?"

Audrey places a hand to her head, "It's a paper that people put their names on to get a bill— or, uh, action— passed."

Ben hums in thought, "Threatened."

Audrey grits her teeth, "You know what happened. You were there."

"Could you slow down?" he interrupts.

She takes a deep breath, "You went after me into the girl's bathroom and told me to stop the petition, because you are a hybrid."

Ben thinks, "Are you sure I didn't just say that so Mal would be safe?"

"She was already outed," Audrey shouts.

"At a private school," Ben provides. "At the time her secret could've been private still."

"So, you don't know what petition or threatened is, but you know what private means," she angrily supplies.

"Yes," he simply says.

"You were anxious," she strongly defends. "You were a complete mess."

"Yeah," Ben accepts. "I'm a bad liar. When I lie it has to be truth. If it wasn't truth, then of course I was a mess."

Audrey lets out a breath as she looks down, but then she notices the large bowl and points to it, "What about that? How can you not be a hybrid if you eat that much?"

Ben stares down at it for a long moment, deeply frowning, "Because. I don't eat." He faces her and irritably says, "Because, I'm stupid and can't figure out how to normally."

"Ben," she sadly speaks.

"I have this stupid idea that I can catch up on eating," he enunciates. "That's why I eat like this. I'm not a fucking hybrid. It's a…" He looks down and mumbles, "Probably a frickin' eating disorder." He shakes his head and stands from the stool.

Audrey watches as he places the bowl in the fridge, "No. Don't. I'll leave." and he turns towards her. "I was just coming to grab some freeze-dried fruit anyway."

"I'm not in the mood anymore," Ben whispers. "I'll have it later. Cold."

"Aren't you at least going to put some plastic wrap on it?" He hears her desperateness, as she warns, "It will get crusty if you don't."

"Good." He eyes down, "Nice feels." before he glances over her, turns around, and slowly walks away.

* * *

"Is Ben or is Ben not a hybrid?" Audrey emotionally questions when Mal opens the door.

Mal notices a few people look over, and she makes a face, "Ben? No. Of course, not." before pulling her inside the dorm and shutting the door. She widens her eyes, "What were you thinking?" as she steps towards Audrey. "You really think Ben would've want that?"

"He just told me he wasn't," Audrey desperately informs. "He said he only said it so that he could keep you safe."

Mal raises her eyebrows at Evie, "He's really good at rationalizing things."

"Totally," she uncomfortably grins as she rubs her arm.

Mal looks Audrey up and down, "First off. Stop getting all teary." as she walks forward in unsureness. "Ben is a hybrid. He didn't lie for me."

"Then why did he say that?"

She takes a deep breath and places a hand on her shoulder, but when Audrey's eyes follow it Mal looks away and takes it off. "Sorry." She faces her, "Look. Ben was having a hard time comprehending being what he is, and so… he came to me to let him forget."

"You hypnotized him," Audrey realizes. "How could you do that to him?"

Mal looks back at Evie, "Did I not just tell her?" and after Evie offers a look Mal meets Audrey's eyes. "He asked me to. I didn't want to do it. He begged me to do it, practically threatened to kill himself if I didn't."

"That's abuse," Audrey frowns.

"He wanted the hypnotism," Mal asserts.

"No," she breathes. "Ben. What he did, threatening to kill himself if you didn't do this. That's abuse."

"Except that he would have done it," Mal denies. "He didn't do it out of malicious intent. He did it, because he needed me to know how hard it was for him." Mal sadly laughs, "You should have seen him. He couldn't even say it was him with the problem. He had to put himself in some story just to admit to it and ask for my help. He was nervous as hell."

"Why was he nervous?"

Mal looks off, "Probably because he knew I would have a problem with it." before she faces her again. "Because, if he's human and I'm still just some heat-sucking monster that could probably never be parasitic with only one person, then how could he ever care about me?" She feels the back of her eyes burn as she shakily breathes, "How could he and me ever really be together if I'm not the perfect, pretty princess he needs me to be?"

"Mal," Audrey sympathizes. "I know I've made fun of your hair before for being so… well, your hair." Mal gives her a look, and she quickly continues, "But you're not ugly. You are beautiful, and Ben knows that."

It takes a long moment for her to say, "Being beautiful still doesn't make me monogamous." and after glancing over Audrey's sad expression she slightly shakes her head. "Ben is like the hottest person I know, but…" She meets Audrey's dark eyes, "I'm still afraid I could kill him somehow, especially if he's the only one I'm allowed to take heat from."

Audrey frowns as she quietly questions, "Does he know about Lonnie?"

Mal shakes her head, "I have no frickin' clue." before she widens her eyes. "Where's Ben right now?"

"I don't know," Audrey unsurely responds. "Last I saw, he was in the kitchen. Why?"

"Doug still doesn't know," Mal urgently answers, before she bolts for the door.

After she leaves there's a long silence, Audrey and Evie staring at each other, before Audrey comments, "You left your overnight bag in my room. You should get it." Evie fails to speak, and she inquires, "Do you miss her? Your mother?" Evie's eyes shift down, her mouth slightly gaped, but no words come out. "You called out for her, for help. It must be so hard being so far away from her."

Their dark brown eyes meet, before Evie evenly replies, "What's hard is that she didn't leave me. Not really." She brings her fingertips to her temple, "She's still up here, whispering. And every single time I hear high heels or feel someone behind me, I fear it's her."

Audrey's quiet for moment, "If you don't mind me asking, what did she do to you?"

Evie stares at her, before she slowly states, "I lived with her for fifteen years. Nothing you can come up with could compare."

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Don't see why," Evie evenly responds. "You've only been fueling the propaganda against villain kids since before we even arrived here."

"I was wrong," she admits. "Ben was right. Your parents didn't make any exceptions with you, the way they've treated others." Evie doesn't speak, and after another minute of stares Audrey says, "I'll go get that bag for you." She moves towards the door, looking back and shaking her head at the lack of communication, before she exits the dorm.

* * *

At the sound of Mal's voice, Ben halts outside his dorm's door. He hears Doug urgently respond, "He's not human. We can't just pretend he is."

"He's better now," she expresses. "He's eating again. He's talking again. He's better."

"Come on, Mal," Doug mumbles. "Ben might have forgotten about being a hybrid, but he's still a carnivore. He's still going to have needs."

"Needs he's willing to satisfy now," Mal reminds him. There's a long silence, before he hears her continue, "Hey. He's going to be okay."

"You shouldn't have done this," he disagrees. "There's things you don't know."

"Like what?" she counters, and when Doug isn't able to say his sentence Ben can practically see him press his glasses up. "This won't be forever. He just can't handle the information right now. He needs to process it first, understand it before he's told."

"How long?" he loudly questions. "How long until we tell him?"

"We aren't," Mal sternly responds. "His parents are. When he's ready."

Doug takes a breath, "I don't like this."

"His parents have a plan," she reassures. "He will find out, and when he does it's going to be okay. He's going to be okay."

There's more quiet, "Even you don't believe that."

Mal grits her teeth, "Look. I told you. Do what you want, but if Ben finds out what he is and kills himself I'm coming after you."

"Don't worry," Doug quietly comments. "My lips are sealed."

"Good," Ben hears Mal assert, before the loud boots move towards him and the door swings open.

Mal looks at him in shock, before she eyes him in suspicion, "What did you hear?"

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Was I supposed to hear something?"

"No," her eyes shift.

"So, uh." He clears his throat, "What were you talking to Doug about?"

"I," Mal slowly begins, "told him Evie's starting to go to therapy for her eating disorder."

Ben nods, "Good." as his eyebrows rise and he exposes his teeth in a grin. "That's, eh, uh, good."

"You don't understand, do you?" Mal suspects, and he merely offers a guilty expression.

* * *

\- Posted: 02/01/2019

\- You know, I know I haven't been posting as much lately, but comments would still be very much appreciated.


	186. Shut Up

**Shut Up**

 **(Day 151: Wednesday Afternoon)**

"Yeah," Evie defends, "but my friends had these kind of experiences too, and they're fine." Her eyes shift as she places a hand over her bony wrist, before she quietly comments, "Or. I mean…"

"I'm not blaming what your mother did," the therapist reassures. "Your experiences are only part of why you developed this disorder."

"Biology is the other part," Evie remembers her conversation with Doug.

"It can be hereditary to a certain degree," the red haired woman recognizes. "Tell me. Your mother, do you think she could have an eating disorder?"

"It wouldn't be anorexia," she frowns, "if she does have one. She's not even thin anymore… I haven't heard her throw up or anything either."

"What about mood disorders? Bipolar or depression, maybe?"

Evie shakes her head, "I don't know." before she meets her crystal blue eyes. "My father is really nice… I can't see him having any problems like that."

"So, your father is alive?" she raises her eyebrows.

"No." Evie looks off, "He's not."

"That must be really stressful," the therapist suspects. "Not having his support anymore."

"He's still with me," she lets her know.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course," she sympathetically smiles. "But… it's not the same, is it?"

Evie glances down, "No. It's not."

"It can be hard to recover from an eating disorder without support," she informs. "Is there someone you're close to that can support you with this in your daily life?"

"My, uh, friend and her boyfriend have been really good to me."

"Good," the therapist nods. "That will help. Let them help you with any stress you may feel. Some people think their eating disorders are helping them, but they're wrong. The eating disorder will consume you both mentally and physically until there's nothing left. It's very important that you ignore that voice and let your friends help you."

 _She's lying. You're better than you've ever been. You're stronger now. You're_ — "What do you mean by voice?" Evie inquires.

"Well," the therapist begins. "A lot of people with eating disorders say that they hear a voice and that this voice tells them what to do, not always just with food either."

"What would this voice be like?" _That's a stupid question. She wouldn't know._

"Manipulative," she sums up. "It can convince people to do things they don't want to do or know are wrong." She takes a deep breath, "It could get you to lie to those closest to you, push them away. Make you steal. Anything, really." Evie nods in thought. "What about you? What does the voice say to you?"

Evie laughs, "Me?" before she shakes her head. "I don't have a voice." She grins as she points to her temple, "It's just me up here."

The therapist nods, "Okay, then." before she glances at the clock. "It looks like our session is over." She faces her, "Do you have anything to say or ask before you leave?"

She shakes her head, "Nope. I'm all good."

The therapist nods, "In that case, I will see you next week."

Evie stands from the couch, "See ya." before she exits the room and frowns. _She knows you lied. You need to be more convincing next time_. Evie shakes her head as she squints her eyes, "Shut up." before she makes it back to the main lobby and steps down the stairs.

When she gets back to the dorm Mal stands from her bed, "How did it go?"

"Fine," she frowns, and she watches intently as Mal moves closer to her.

Mal takes some time to swipe Evie's hair behind an ear and holds her cheek, before she steps forward into a savory kiss. She notices Evie's awed expression, "I'm glad you're trying."

"Yeah." Evie repeats, "I'm trying."

* * *

"You've been working on that Anatomy for a long time," Doug notices. "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah," Ben swiftly turns to him. "How about you get out of my face?"

He notices the longing, almost predatory look in his eyes, "You're hungry."

Ben picks up a protein bar wrapper, "I just ate."

"No. I mean." Doug sighs, "Look. You're probably not going to remember this, but… you told me about the cravings."

"Cravings?" Ben questions.

"That sometimes you want blood," he clarifies, and Ben looks away from him, running a hand down his face. "Ben. It's okay."

"No," he shouts as he turns back to him. "I don't know why I told you or how the hell you figured it out, but—" The rest of his sentence falls with a tired breath.

"You're craving it right now," Doug comments. "I can tell."

"So what, if I am?" Ben entertains.

He slowly offers, "You could take some from me."

"No," he shakes his head hard.

"Then cook some in the kitchen," he suggests.

Ben takes an irritable breath, "No."

"You're afraid of getting caught," Doug acknowledges. "I know. But if you won't take any from me—"

"I don't need it," he widens his eyes at him. "I'm not a fucking vampire." He stresses, "And I'm not one of those people who get a sex thrill from it either."

"Ben," Doug evenly responds, "if I thought that, I wouldn't have offered." He looks away again. "Ben. If you're craving it, then you need it."

"People crave paper," he faces him. "Some people crave soap. It doesn't mean they're supposed to have it."

Doug nods, "Okay." before he meets his eyes. "So, you don't drink blood? Ever? You never have?" He notices Ben's expression fall, "You have. In a big way, haven't you?"

"In middle school," Ben glances down, "there was a party at the castle, and someone got cut in the kitchen. Bad. And…" He meets his eyes, "When she left I… and then I'm pretty sure my father caught me."

"What happened?" Doug seriously asks.

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "He started to take me out to eat rare steak." before his eyes shift in thought. "It was like he knew, and he didn't… react bad." Ben pauses, "It's probably the best thing he ever did for me, doing that when Mom didn't want me to have it."

"It doesn't change anything else he's done," he slowly reminds him.

"Yeah," Ben's eyes shift. "I know."

After some silence Doug asks, "Who was the person that got cut?"

Ben half laughs, "You could probably guess."

Doug shakes his head, "I really don't know."

He partly smiles, "Queen Aurora. Who else?" before he lets out a breath. "I should pass a law to keep her from sharp objects."

"Audrey's mother?" Doug surprises. "Does Audrey know?"

"God, no," he exasperates, before he grins. "Get it? God?"

He frowns, "You're trying to distract yourself, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ben affirms.

"Okay," Doug sighs. "You drink blood. You crave it. We know this." Ben looks off in annoyance. "So, whether you physically need it or not, you still need it and do have it." Ben meets his eyes again, and Doug continues, "Come on. You know you need to have it."

Ben watches as Doug pulls up his sleeve and places the flawless arm in front of him, but he forces his eyes away, "No." He shakes his head, "I don't need it."

"Yes, you do," he strongly retorts. "Even your father knew that."

"Shut up," Ben yells at him, before he lets out a hopeless breath. "I'm human. I don't need it. And the need I do have for it…" Tears gloss his eyes, "It's sick. It's wrong."

"You need it," Doug softly says.

Ben shakes his head, "No. I can go without it."

"Ben," he tries to reason.

"No," he interrupts, before he looks back at the table, lifts the arm up, and pushes it back towards Doug's chest. "I never want to hear you tell me to drink from you again. Ever."

"Ben," he sighs.

"I mean it." He grips harder as the tears leave his eyes, "Because, even if humans can't drink blood, because they can't keep it down… I wouldn't stop. Even if it made me sick, I wouldn't stop." He takes a few breaths as he grips the arm even harder.

"Ben," Doug shuts his eyes in pain.

"The more I have it, the more I want it. The first time I had blood, it took forever for me to stop thinking about it. My father took me to get rare steak every day— sometimes more— until enough time passed for the cravings to go away." He laughs, "They didn't. Not really."

"Ben," Doug shakily breathes. "Please, let go of me."

Ben notices the tight grip, and his mouth gapes before he lets go, "Are you okay?"

"You're strong," Doug eyes him. "You need to know that."

He eyes down, "I know."

"Ben," Doug says, and he waits for him to face him. "I understand, now that you've told me how much it affects you, so I won't make you do it again." He pauses, "But… I am here if you ever need me." He gives a look, "All you need to do is ask."

"I won't need," Ben nods down, "your help." He turns back to the textbook, "It's just this Anatomy homework. Blood, blood, blood, it's all it ever says. It was stupid of me to take this class." He shakes his head, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait until the sex unit."

"Do you mean the reproductive unit?"

"Yeah," Ben places a hand to his head as he lays an elbow on the table. "That."

Doug scoots closer to the table and pulls the textbook towards himself, "Here. Let me help you." He faces Ben, "Strawberries." before he looks down at the textbook and starts to read. "A relative decrease in strawberry sodium can occur because of an imbalance of sodium in one of the body's other fluid compartments or from a dilution of sodium due to water retention related to edema or congestive…" He thinks for a minute, "Rock failure."

Ben sadly smiles, "Thank you."

He nods, "You're welcome." before he hesitates. "Do you need to know what some of the words mean?"

Ben squints, "Let's stop after every paragraph."

Doug smiles, "You've got it."

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Ben asks for more extra credit, and Fairy Godmother goes over Ben's and the VKs's options for the following school year.


	187. Desperate

**Desperate**

 **(Day 152: Thursday Noon)**

After Aziz catches Ben on the treadmill he strides across the weight's room, "Hey." But all he gets from him is a quick glance. "It's time for lunch."

"Yeah," Ben bypasses. "I'll be there. Just let me finish this mile."

"Is this where you went to when you skipped out on your interpreter to use the bathroom?" he irritably responds.

"Give me a break," Ben heavily breathes. "I haven't exercised all week."

"We told the headmistress you disappeared."

Ben pauses the treadmill and faces him, "Why the hell did you do that?"

"We thought you could've gone to try and hurt yourself," he huffs.

He gives him a look, "I don't do that anymore." before he goes to start the treadmill.

Aziz notices the amount of miles on the dashboard, "If you skip another meal, I'm going to have to tell her."

"I said I'd be there," Ben growls, before he turns his head down and whispers, "Ten minutes. I just need ten minutes." Aziz stares at him for a minute, before he heads off. "Hey," he calls after him, and Aziz looks over his shoulder. "Where you going?"

He's quiet for a moment, before he calmly comments, "If we're eating in ten minutes, then I need to do the noon prayer now. Besides, someone has to tell Fairy Godmother you're still alive. Obviously, you won't." Ben doesn't respond, turning back to the dashboard and upping the speed, before Aziz's eyes move down, scanning the floor, as he turns to leave.

* * *

"Extra Credit again?" the balding man questions.

"Yes," Ben plainly states.

"Ben," Mr. Conrad begins. "You already have an A-."

"So?"

He examines his stiff posture, "So, why do you need extra credit?"

"I told you," Ben stresses, "I need an A."

"You already have the letter grade," he attempts to reason.

"That's not good enough," Ben shouts, before he lets out a shaky breath and mutters, "I need a real A."

"Ben," his brown eyes look through him, "what happens if you don't get an A?"

"Then," Ben defenses, before his voice lowers, "Then it would have been for nothing."

"You've done a lot better than a lot of other students," the professor lets him know. "I wouldn't say that was for nothing."

Ben opens his mouth before repeating, "I need an A."

"Ben—"

"No," he interrupts the nonchalant voice. This isn't nothing, just some foolish, overly ambition teenage request some adult has to talk him down from. Tears fill his eyes, and deep down he hopes he will understand, "I need an A." If he doesn't he'll never hear the end of it, and he just can't sit around another summer listening to that same criticism over and over again. Again. "Please. I'll do anything."

Mr. Conrad takes a moment, frowning, "As a royal, you should know better than to use the term 'anything' in an agreement."

"What can I say?" Ben sadly grins, before he gulps. "I'm desperate."

The teacher meets his eyes, "You did very well on the chapter that dealt with the psychological consequences of abuse." and he watches as Ben's eyes shift before turning back to his desk. "What you didn't do so well on was the rest of the unit, which dealt with how a person develops if they aren't exposed to society or human interaction." He writes something on a post-it note, but when he goes to hand it to him he pulls it back. Ben uneasily faces him, and he questions, "Are you aware of the feral girl who was found locked in her parents' cabin?"

"Yes," Ben confirms.

"She didn't have a voice," he reminds him. "But you do." Ben looks off, and the teacher continues, "You can tell me what's going on."

Ben frowns, "There's nothing to tell."

Mr. Conrad takes a moment, "Your assignment is to write a report on that girl, what happened and how she is now." before he hands him the small paper. "This is my email and phone number. If you have any questions or concerns, don't hesitate to contact me."

He eyes him in suspicion, "Thanks." and when he turns to leave he hears his voice again.

"Are you taking the advanced course next year?"

"Uh." Ben wets his lips before turning back around, "I don't really know."

The professor nods, "In any case, if this summer you find yourself questioning what to do, I would be happy to help you with the course material."

This was a mistake. Ben didn't get him to understand his situation. He got him to validate the concerns he must have already had. Now, he won't ever lay off. "I understand."

Mr. Conrad smiles, "Have a good day."

"Yeah," Ben's eyes shift, before he nods, "You too."

* * *

\- **Posted** : 02/08/2019


	188. Little More to Offer

**Little More to Offer**

 **(Day 153: Friday Afternoon)**

"Am I in trouble again?" Ben worries, as he sits across from the headmistress.

She smiles, "No."

"Then why am I here?"

"It's predicted that you will have three hundred and twenty-eight points by the end of the school year," Fairy Godmother informs.

"I know," Ben frowns. "I'm likely going to be valedictorian for my class."

"Valedictorian is about more than just grades," she counters, "but we're not here to discuss that."

"Then why am I here?" Ben repeats.

"We're here," Fairy Godmother slowly answers, "because I'm afraid this school has little more to offer you."

Ben's mouth gapes as he stares suspiciously at her, "What do you mean?" and he feels his heart pick up pace.

"Ben," she hesitates, "you've taken almost every class we offer, including the pre-college ones for which we offer it."

"No," he defends. "Science electives and languages, not to mention art." He lets out a breath as tears fill his eyes, "There's plenty I haven't taken."

"Most people graduate with two to three hundred points," she softly speaks.

"I've worked hard," Ben mutters. "And now you're tossing me out?"

"I'm not tossing you out," the headmistress starts.

"I know I've done things," his eyes shift, before he desperately pleads, "but I'm not a danger to myself. Or others. Not anymore." His eyes widen, "You don't need to get rid of me." and when he pauses she fails to speak. "I'll be good. I promise."

"Ben," Fairy Godmother frowns. "This has nothing to do with anything you've done. I just want what is best for you."

"If you wanted what was best for me," he breathes, "then you wouldn't be making me leave. I was supposed to be able to have another year here."

"Ben," she calmly replies, "I know that you haven't been sleeping or eating well. As king, you deserve a less hectic schedule." He looks off, and her voice raises slightly, "If you graduate now, then you could start going to college part time, have adequate time for your kingly duties and personal life, and even pursue any other endeavors you may wish."

Ben faces her before seething, "I don't want that. I want this."

"Ben," she attempts to reason.

"No," he loudly interrupts. "Everyone else gets a four-year high school experience, and I'm getting one too."

The headmistress takes a moment, "If you thought about this rationally—"

"This is the only place I'm ever told I've done something right," Ben calms, as the fever hits him. "You can't make me leave."

There's a minute of silence, before Fairy Godmother slides her prepared papers to the side, "Alright." She faces him, "Shall we discuss your class options for next year?"

"You're not kicking me out?" Ben nearly grins.

She shakes her head, "No. You can graduate with your girlfriend next year."

Ben breaths in relief, "Thank you."

Fairy Godmother clasps her hands in front of her, "Ben. You're thanking me for doing something that is standard." before she meets his eyes. "I only offered for you to graduate early, because I thought it could benefit you. Most students would have been thrilled. You… You feel more comfortable graduating with your class." She hesitates, "I don't want you to thank me for doing this for you."

"But I am thankful," he lets her know. "Very thankful."

"And that concerns me," she quiets. "It makes me wonder if you've applied this line of thinking to other parts of your life, thanking people for doing things they were already supposed to do for you."

Ben's eyes shift, and his eyes squint in confusion, "Did you want me to be a selfish jackass?"

"No," Fairy Godmother's frown deepens. "I want you to feel like you deserve help, that having support is perfectly normal." His eyes look down in contemplation, but when he fails to respond she continues on, "Let's discuss your core classes first." She finds a blank paper and a pen, "The next math class for your track is Advanced Placement Calculus. Is that okay?"

He nods, "Yes."

"Otherwise, you can take Statistics and Probability," she lets him know.

"Calculus is fine," he frowns.

"Advanced Placement means you will be taking a test at the end of the year for the chance at college credit," she informs, and after he merely nods she nods in return. "Okay." She takes a breath, "Ah, history. You have options for either Monarchal Studies or Fairies."

Ben thinks, "I feel like Monarchical history would have a lot of propaganda in it. Most of us are secretive, and the matters we do inform the citizens about often become… misconstrued."

"Fairies probably isn't much better," Fairy Godmother comments. "A lot of it deals with how Maleficent took power and what happened during her rule. If what Mal said is true, then there seems to be a lot of misinformation in the textbook." She pauses, "I might have to look further into it this summer and see if I have to cancel the class altogether, until a new textbook can replace it." Ben nods, and she offers, "Would you prefer an independent study option?"

"That sounds nice."

The headmistress picks the pen back up, "Do you have anything in mind?" He shakes his head, and she helps, "What about looking further into the kingdoms, how they developed, their climate and resources, that kind of thing?"

"Sounds like Geography," Ben notices.

She takes a breath, "We could probably use an advanced geography class. What we teach our middle schoolers hasn't seemed to stick very well."

"Learning locations isn't very useful anymore," Ben comments. "It's easy to forget, because we've heard of those places on the internet and there's GPS now, so…"

"It's boring," Fairy Godmother assesses. "I'll speak with the teacher and see if he can give more interesting assignments or add informative videos."

"Try Oversimplified," Ben smiles.

"Pardon?"

"It's a channel on TheTube. Sometimes they have videos on the history of certain wars or… actually, I only saw a couple videos. So, I don't know what exactly they've done, but it's pretty funny."

"I will look into it," the headmistress says, before she jots something down and continues on, "Science. You can do Engineering, Astronomy, or Botany."

"Botany," Ben confirms. "I'm better at life classes."

"There's also been a class proposed that will be taught by Mr. Hawthorne if it gains enough interest," she offers.

Ben hesitates, "Well. What is it?"

"Virology," she answers. "He wants to focus on retroviruses, the vampire and wolf viruses specifically, teach how they affect the host and the symptoms they produce." She smiles, "I'll be letting every carnivore who has passed Biology know about this class. I think it will help them understand themselves a great deal."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "But I'm not a carnivore."

"Perhaps not," the headmistress bypasses, "but your girlfriend is. I doubt the class will discuss dragons, but it could still help you understand why she is the way she is."

He nods, "Okay."

Fairy Godmother smiles, "Good." before she scribbles it down; however, her expression falters before she faces him again. She unsurely starts, "The only English class we have left to offer you from the standardized list is Advanced Placement English Literature." Ben eyes down, and she thinks, "I could try to explain your situation and let them offer you the Creative Writing class instead."

"Creative Writing?" Ben unsurely repeats.

"It wouldn't have any tests," she lets him know. "There are units on the structure or themes of different genres— even poetry— and there are unit projects for you to do. Mostly, you just write your own stories. I think it could be good for you in more ways than one, so long as it is approved."

"Good for me?"

"To express yourself," she explains, and when he looks away she addresses, "You don't need to, but the best writing does tend to be personal."

He faces her, "I'm in no position to make things personal."

She nods, "I think I understand, but you may change your mind." before she gives a look. "It is easier, isn't it, to view your life from an outsider's perspective?"

Ben opens his mouth, but it takes a minute for any words to come out, "It's like my own personal TV show."

Fairy Godmother nods again, "Will you still be taking French as your language class?"

"No," his eyes shift. "I need to learn Sign Language. I never realized how many people are deaf or mute. They deserve to be able to communicate with their king."

She writes it down, "Anything else?"

Ben wets his lips as he notices the lengthy list, "Advanced Economics and Advanced Psychology." but when he recalls Mr. Conrad's growing suspicion he opens his mouth to change his mind; however, his breath leaves him as he watches her jot it down. It's too late.

The headmistress offers a worried expression, "You're not planning on taking ten classes again this next year. Are you?"

Ben darts his eyes from the paper to her, "I also need to take Criminal Investigation, Forensics, and Music Theory."

Fairy Godmother hesitates, "And what does a king need with Forensics?"

"You know," he bides time, before his eyes shift and he rubs his hands together. "Like, if someone breaks into the castle and I need to gather finger prints and analyze them."

"Or," she strongly suggests, "you could just call the police and let them take care of it."

Ben straightens up and firmly admits, "I need to know if my parents have been stifling through my personal items."

She takes a moment, "Music Theory?"

"It's the one thing my piano teacher couldn't teach me." Ben's eyes look off in annoyance, "My father's been wanting me to take it." before his voice grows anxious, "If I don't take it next year, then my father's going to—" He meets the headmistress's dark eyes, his mouth gaped, before he nods down, "Figuratively speaking." Her expression is so sad, and he tries to make it better, "My father's just a bit stingy about my piano performance." She still fails to speak, and there's a brief silence before he frowns, "Fairy Godmother?"

The headmistress's eyes shimmer, "The school year's almost over. If you need any further help, now's the time to let me know."

Ben hesitates, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I can't help you during the summer," she stresses, as her eyes widen, "If you need my help, you need to ask for it now."

He's quiet as he examines her worry, and he whispers in uneasiness, "I'm fine. I've always been fine."

"I feel like you're only saying that, because you haven't known anything better," Fairy Godmother opinionates.

Ben attempts to smile, before he agrees, "You can't miss what you never had."


	189. I Don't Know

**I Don't Know**

 **(Day 154: Saturday Night)**

"Last Biology assignment of the year finished," Carlos lets out a relaxing breath, before the textbook falls shut.

Aziz smiles, "Do you know what you're taking next year?"

"Engineering," he frowns.

"You know that has a lot of advanced math," he informs.

"Yeah," Carlos eyes down, before he shakes his head. "But Jay doesn't care."

"Jay?" Aziz's smile slips.

"Yeah," he irritably responds. "Took it just because he knows I was. Wants to reconnect or some crap like that."

"Are you two—" He hesitates before whispering, "Do you hate each other again?"

"No," he shakes his head. "He thinks we should hang out or whatever, be friends again, I guess. But I…" He meets Aziz's dark brown eyes, "I can't do that."

"Have you told him you don't want him taking the class?" he inquires.

"Yeah," Carlos mumbles. "He doesn't care… and I'm too much of a pushover."

"How about I join you?" Aziz immediately responds. "I could take the class and cockblock him for you."

He nearly smiles, "You would do that for me?"

Aziz shrugs, "You could use a friend in that class. Projects tend to be in pairs."

"A friend?" Carlos repeats.

"Yeah," Aziz smiles. "A friend."

"Are we?" he unsurely questions.

"What else would we be?" Aziz counters, before he tosses an eraser at him, Carlos grins in disbelief, and he laughs; however, his smile suddenly fades.

Carlos frowns in concern, "What's wrong?"

Aziz attempts to smile again, "It's nothing." as he shakes his head. "Really."

"You let me talk about my problems," he points out. "You can tell me yours."

Aziz glances down before eyeing back up, "My dad thinks I'm ill."

Carlos hesitates, "Are you?"

He looks down in thought, "In a way." before he meets his blue eyes. "But not in the way he thinks." Carlos waits for him to explain, and he takes a breath, "I, uh…" He faces him, "There is something wrong with me, but I'm finding that there's no cure for it."

"A cure?" Carlos quietly comments. "Is it serious?"

Aziz pauses, "For me, it is."

"And your parents don't know about it?"

He shakes his head, "No." before he runs a hand through his black hair. "It would only hurt them. They would probably try to come up with some solution, maybe even bring God into it, but…" He looks at Carlos, as it gets harder to speak, "I've tried, but I'm starting to think even God can't help, and…" He uneasily breathes, "If He can't, I don't know if I'll be able to fight it, and if I can't—"

He breaks into sobs, and Carlos takes his hand, "Hey."

Aziz takes his hand back, shutting his eyes before whispering, "Sorry."

"It's fine," he frowns.

He looks up at him, "You know. You're the only person I've told." Carlos tries to think of something to say, but before he can come up with anything Aziz asks, "Do you think sick people get into Heaven?" He gulps, "Do you think I'll be pure enough to make it there?"

It takes a minute for Carlos to quietly answer, "I don't know."

Aziz shakes his head, before he whispers, "I don't want to die."

Carlos continues to frown, "How long do you have?"

He shakily breathes, "I don't know." before he meets his eyes again and Carlos can see the glistening fear. "I don't know."

* * *

\- **Next Up** : Mal and Ben, and Ben's family dinner.

\- Only 12 more chapters. If you want to leave a comment, now's probably a good time to do it.


	190. This Eating Thing

**This Eating Thing**

 **(Day 154: Saturday Night)**

Mal places her thumbs under Ben's blue shirt, "Is this okay?"

"Yes," he consents, before she pulls it up over his head, tosses it to the floor, and starts to do the same with hers.

Ben lets out a breath, cockily smiling as he looks over her, before he notices the blue vein running from her breasts to her bare neck. She pushes him further down, his arms giving way, before she leans in and kisses him. Her lips shockingly cool, and his breathing increases with his heartrate when she trails down to his neck. There it is again, that scent. Ben opens his eyes. There it is again, that vein. He gulps, a dizzying feeling enveloping him, before the stabbing pain digs deep into his stomach. "Wait." His teeth tense up, his mouth widening as he shuts his eyes hard, "Stop."

"Ben?" Mal questions.

"Get off," he pleads, and after she does he hurries to the edge of the bed, his hands gripping hard onto the corner. He hears the silent rumbling, as his insides continue to be shoveled out.

Mal scoots into view, and she notices the tear running down his face, "What did I do?"

He shakes his head, muttering, "Nothing." before he bends his neck down and places a hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry. I know you need me."

"Ben," Mal whispers as she examines him. "What's wrong?"

He half laughs, "I don't even know anymore." Mal eyes down in deep thought, before he comments, "I didn't eat. I can't… focus." He turns towards her, "Mal. I'm so sorry."

"Ben," she attempts to reassure, "It's fine."

"No. It isn't," he denies. "I should have ate. I should be able to think about you." He lets out a breath and looks down, "But… it's like when I'm ready to eat, something comes up." Mal doesn't speak, so he looks at her again, "I'm sorry. You needed me. And I failed."

"Ben," she slowly attempts to reason, "we haven't really done this in a while. I found another way."

He looks into her green eyes, "Who?"

She looks off, "Ben."

"I just want to know," he excuses.

Mal faces him, but it takes a minute for her to say, "Lonnie."

"Lonnie?" he raises his eyebrows.

"It's not sexual."

"Not sex," Ben's eyes shift. "So, emotion." He moves his head forward as he widens his eyes, "Is it emotion?"

"You mean romantic?" Mal counters.

Ben's eyes shift again, "Yes."

She takes a moment, "Is curling up with a movie romantic?" and then he looks her up and down. "Ben. I had to—" He moves forward to kiss her, but as he begins to press her shoulder back she does the same with him. Their lips part, and her mouth gapes, "What are you doing?"

It takes him a second to say, "I want you to have me."

"Ben," Mal complains as she scratches her nose.

"You don't need her," he stresses, before he takes her hands into his. "You have me."

"You just said you can't right now," Mal reminds him. "You can't stay focused."

"I'm focused now," Ben desperately reassures, before he kisses her again and places a hand on her black bra.

Mal hears his stomach growl for a loud, long moment, and she breaks apart from him before sucking on her lips, "You're not okay."

"I am," he promises.

"No," she faces him with furrowed brows, before she laughs at the absurdity, "We're taking care of your needs first."

"My needs? Ben hesitantly inquires.

"Yes. Your needs," Mal asserts, before she gets off the bed, puts her shirt back on, and tosses him his. "You're eating. You're not doing this again."

"I was going to order a pizza later," he quietly comments.

"Forget the fucking pizza," Mal shouts, before she takes a deep breath, goes to grab his hand, and pulls him off of the bed. "Come on."

"Mal," Ben stops her in front of the door, and when her eyes meets his he finds it hard to say, "I didn't mean not to eat." His eyes shift, "I was planning on having a pizza." and the heavy feeling of the binge floats in his mind. "I was going to catch up." Mal observes him, as he sadly smiles and halfheartedly laughs, "Why am I so bad at this? This eating thing?"

Mal frowns, "It takes practice. And structure." before she places her hands on his shoulders. "You just need to plan it out, make it a habit." She hesitates, "And it helps if you stop eating junk like pizza and have an actual steak."

"Right," Ben gulps, trying to keep himself from falling apart any further.

Mal hugs him, "Come on." before he wipes the tears from his face and she takes his hand, opening to door to step out into the hall.

* * *

"That fridge is for carnivores only," Ben frowns, as Mal takes the large steaks out; however, when he notices the label he sits up straighter in interest. "Is that top sirloin?" Mal smiles, and she finds a pan before opening the first package. "It's still only supposed to be for carnivores. If everyone ate it, then there'd be none left for who really needs it."

"I'm a carnivore," she reasons.

"But I'm not," he denies. Mal gives him a look, and he shakes his head, "What?"

"I'll cover for you," she reassures, before she places the meat into the pan, sucking her fingertips as she turns back around. Ben looks down at the island counter, and Mal moves closer to him to lean on its edge, "Hey. It'll be fine." He fails to speak, and a minute later she goes back to the stove to flip the steak.

"It's just," Ben begins, as he smells the smoke. He looks between Mal and the stove. She's had to have done this before. There's nothing to be concerned about.

"Just?" Mal questions.

"Meat is bad for humans," he excuses. "They can't have a lot of it. Their bodies aren't made for it."

"Ben," she sighs.

"You're going to live forever," his eyes gleam.

"We don't know that."

"And I'll be lucky if I live to a hundred," he shakily says, and Mal cautiously observes him with an open mouth. "You should have better."

She sighs, "Ben. We talked about this already." before she finds a plate for the first steak and replaces it with the second one. "Both of us have problems." She turns around and sweetly smiles, "And that kind of makes us perfect for each other."

"There are things," Ben stresses. "Things about myself I don't even know how to answer." He meets her eyes, "You need to know why I am the way I am, why I do the things I do." before he solemnly laughs. "I have no answers for you."

Mal flips the steak before moving towards him and taking his hand, "I don't need to know you to know you. Okay? We're fine." She grins, "And we're going to be fine."

"Just fine?" Ben unsurely questions.

Mal frowns again before going back to the stove, "What do you want me to say? Nothing's perfect. We're not going to be any different."

Ben's eyes narrow as they shift in thought, "You just said we're perfect for each other."

She takes the steak off the stove, before she places the them in front of Ben and sits down across from him, "Crispy on the outside, bloody on the inside."

He hesitates, "You mean juicy?"

"Yeah. Sure," Mal accommodates. "Juicy."

He watches as she picks it up with a fork and bites into it, tearing the flesh apart and sucking the blood out, "You're not going to use a knife or something?"

"And let the juice escape?" she questions, before she notices him glance down at his own. "Would you like a knife?"

"Yes, please," he quietly states, before she goes to get him one; however, even when he has it in his hand he keep looking between her and the meat.

Mal plops the steak back down, "You have to eat something."

"Yeah. Uh, I know." He makes a noise, "Just… no vegetables or anything?"

She gives him a look, "Do you want vegetables?"

His eyes shift, "Not really." before he wets his lips. "It's just, my mother—"

"Would you stop talking about your mother?" Mal irritably interrupts. "She isn't here. I am. Why can't you talk about us for once?"

It takes him a moment to answer, "I was trying to. Before."

Mal lets out a breath, "Right." before she places a hand to her head, resting her elbow on the counter, as she notices his unbitten meal. "Aren't you going to cut your steak?"

"Yeah," Ben remembers, before he glances between it and her. "Can you… not watch me? Please."

She sits quietly before nodding, "Yeah." before she stands and grabs her plate. "I'll eat over there."

Ben watches her walk to the other side of the kitchen, before he turns away and looks back at his steak, cutting into it and watching as the red juice flows onto the plate. It fills it, and he knows he won't be able to have it. Even though Mal won't be able to see his satisfaction from the warm juice, she would be able to see him lifting the plate to his lips with just a single glance. No. He will continue to cut the steak, eat it, and then he will wash the blood away. That is the only way.

* * *

\- Posted: 02/15/2019

\- I was going to ask where all my regulars went, but then you started popping right back up again. By the way, I lied... Did the math wrong. Including this chapter, there should be 11 left until the fic reaches 200 ch. and finishes. I just thought it was 12, because I forget to readjust the outline as I was writing.

\- **Tzei** Don't worry. I have no plans to leave. Also, glad you already have a guess for Aziz's problem. Sadly, it won't be revealed for a while. Also... 12 chapters might have seemed short; however, I still have five more to write, and I've already reached 1,073 document pages. That's right. By the time I finish this you will have read a novel of approximately 3,500 pages. Congratulations. Well done— everyone. And, honestly, thank you.

\- **Vannahleigh495** Don't worry. Even though this fic will be coming to a close, I have a lot more plans for the story as a whole. After this fic is finished keep an eye out for the following stories: My Name is Belle Marie (Belle's Journal while she was the Beast's prisoner), Behind the Dragon's Eye (the story of Mal's grandparents told by her mother with an epilogue showcasing what no one knew), Isle Problems 2: In the Family (where Ben and the VKs spend the summer at his castle), and Side Problems: In the Pack (based on a ship someone requested for Lonnie during which Ben's true family history/heritage will be revealed). So, don't worry. There's plenty more to come... maybe I'll be able to keep these under 200 chapters this time? I'll probably be aiming for thirteen for The Dragon's Eye, fifty for My Name is Belle Marie, and 100 for the other two. It should be said that since In the Family and In the Pack will both be during the summer plot that they could be read side by side, and that's probably how I will be writing it. If you read both stories that will be 200 chapters again. I hope to finish all of these stories by the end of spring... I just love setting myself up to fail, but I always fail. At least with high goals I actually get something done.


	191. Bad Bunnies

**Bad Bunnies**

 **(Day 155: Sunday Morning)**

"Oh. Aziz. Hey."

"Um," he nervously smiles, as he notices Doug's confusion. "Ben really needs to have breakfast today."

"Yeah," Doug readjusts his glasses. "That's not going to happen."

He shakes his head, "Why not?"

Doug nods, his eyes up in thought, "It's Sunday. It's morning. He's asleep."

Aziz shakes his head, "And?"

"And." Doug takes a breath, "He's not going to wake up."

He frowns in slight annoyance, "What time did he get to sleep?"

"Doesn't matter." Doug quickly comments, "He'll be asleep 'til noon." before he maneuvers to switch spots with him. "But feel free to try." He puts up a hand, "Wait. No." before he uncomfortably smiles. "Just stay here on Ben watch. I'd like to have breakfast this weekend."

"Why can't I just wake him up, so we can all eat?" Aziz irritably replies.

"Do you feel like getting yelled at in French?"

He takes a moment, "No."

"Good," Doug smiles. "Then you'll let him sleep." Aziz takes a deep breath before stepping over to the table to take a seat, and after a minute he gives Doug a look. "If you really want to try," he slowly comments, "then turn the lights off." His eyes scour the room, "Like, all of them. It'll make him think it's later than it is." He looks away from Aziz's furrowed eyebrows and notices the cracked curtain, before he points, "Fix those. They need to be closed more."

"You just want to keep him asleep," Aziz doubts. "He needs to eat."

Doug offers an even expression, "The light hurts his eyes. He won't wake up until it's gone. But if you'd rather open the curtains further, feel free. We can all miss lunch too." Aziz's mouth cracks open in contemplation, but when he doesn't comment Doug speaks, "Not everyone wakes up at the break of dawn."

"Before dawn," Aziz lets him know.

"God," Doug spouts, looking away, before he places a hand to his head. "It's too early for this." He faces him, "Sit. Stay." before he points to Ben. "Watch." He takes a deep breath, "I'm going to eat something. Finally." before he turns into the hall and mumbles over his shoulder. "Don't upset him. I'll be back soon."

After he leaves Aziz watches the door close, before he looks over at Ben, stands from the seat, and goes to shut the curtain. He looks down at Ben and whispers, "If you ate, you wouldn't be so tired all the time." and after a moment he eyes the bedside table. "Where's your sunglasses?" The top of the bedside table is spotless, so he opens the drawer; however, when he does he pauses. He glances from Ben to the bottles, before he picks them up and puts them back into their place one by one. The ibuprofen and cold medicine isn't surprising. Someone with such a high body temperature probably has a lot of things like that.

However, when Aziz picks up the next three bottles he takes a moment to look at Ben. Melatonin, Valerian Root, and Natra Sleep are all a part of his secret drawer. He puts the last bottle in its place, before he picks up the small book. He flips it open, and page by page there it is: exercise, type, time-amount, and at the very bottom: sleep. Aziz flips through the pages. Ben never sleeps. He sighs and puts the book back, before kneels down and whispers, "Ben." Ben makes a sound, and he speaks a little louder, "Ben? Can you hear me?"

"Aziz?"

"Yes," he answers.

"You're in my room," Ben mumbles.

"It's time for you to get up," Aziz softly speaks.

"I need to get the papers done."

"You can to that later," he counters. "You need to come down and eat." Ben makes a noise, and he questions, "Where's your sunglasses?"

His eyebrows furrow, but his eyes remain close, "I can't wear those downstairs."

"Why not?"

It takes him a minute to answer, "My father will break it again."

Aziz takes a breath, "Ben. Your father's not here."

"He'll hear it," he whispers. "He'll come and… break it."

"Why?" Aziz inquires.

"I can't let the people see me with it."

"Why?" he repeats.

"Because," Ben irritably mumbles. "Just because."

"Ben," Aziz shuts his eyes for a second, "that's not a real answer."

"It's the answer I got."

It takes a long minute for Aziz to opinionate, "You really should come down with me."

"My papers aren't ready," Ben counters. "I can't speak without my papers."

"Speak?"

"You should speak for me," he thinks up.

"For what?" Aziz shakes his head.

"The people," Ben quietly answers. "They're waiting."

Aziz's mouth cracks open, "You're asleep." but he doesn't respond. "Ben?" He repeats it a little louder, and when there's still no answer he shakes him. "Hey."

"I could kill you." Aziz halts, standing upright. "No one would know. It could be our little secret." He stays quiet and still, and Ben sucks his cheeks before turning onto his stomach. Aziz hears Ben's stomach growl and steps forward, "Ben?"

"The bad bunnies are gone."

"Bad bunnies?" Aziz questions.

"They were digging the roses," Ben mumbles. "I got rid of them for you."

Aziz nods, "Okay."

"Aren't you going to say thank you?"

Aziz smiles as he laughs, "Thank you."

* * *

"Hey," Doug notices Ben enter the dorm. "How was dinner?"

Ben sits adjacent from him, frowning, "My mother invited Mal and the other Islanders to stay at the castle for this summer."

"You don't seem very happy about it," he notices.

Ben wets his lips, "It's just…" He lowers his head. He has no words.

"Your father," Doug quietly assumes.

Ben slowly faces him, not bothering to deny it, "He has a lot of rules. They won't know what any of them are, what happens if they don't follow them, or… the signs."

"Signs?"

"The way he speaks, the words he uses, his face," he lists, before he eyes down towards the floor. "You can tell when he's ill."

Doug takes a moment, "You keep calling it ill. But he's still the same person. You know that. You have to."

"Doesn't matter," Ben mutters as his eyes shift. "It's not his fault. He has no… control over it. And sometimes…" He solemnly laughs, "Sometimes it's over nothing." before he shakes his head. "They won't be safe there. They're… bad seeds: fairies, witches, and killers." He meets Doug's green eyes, "If my father can't deal with me, he won't deal with them."

"What are you going to do?"

Ben eyes over the room, before he unsurely shrugs a shoulder, "The East Wing?"

"Oh, no," Doug's mouth gapes. "I've heard this story before."

"No," Ben calmly asserts. "I would be doing this for their safety, and they wouldn't have to stay. They could leave at will."

"Still," he pursues. "Do you really want to repeat your father's mistakes?"

"If I can make this work," Ben thinks, "then it will be like it never happened. I could turn something bad into something good."

Doug sighs before readjusting his glasses, "You know, Ben." before he faces him. "I really wish you couldn't told me about all of this sooner."

Ben glances down, "There was nothing to tell." before his eyes meet his. "I had no words. I still don't. It's like…" He wets his lips, "Like this is all just some movie or book, and… you know how it ends. But you play your part in the story anyway."

"And how does your story end?"

Ben takes a moment, speaking before he even knows what he's going to say, "Like everyone's does." He darts his eyes from the table to him, "I'll be dead."

* * *

"So, you do eat."

Ben's mouth gapes as he sees Aziz near the arch, "How did you know I was here?"

"You're a royal, Ben," he reminds him. "People are going to take pictures."

Ben wets his lips, "No one's ever really have before." before he eyes down at his steak. "At least, not here." Aziz comes to sit down, and he comments, "I don't want you here."

"Why not?"

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "I can't have someone here." before his eyes scan over the two entrées and three plates of steak, half of which has already been eaten. He faces him, "This is just something I have to do alone."

It's quiet for a long moment, before Aziz asks, "How long have you been doing this?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but he makes a disgruntled noise before staring down at the table, "It got pretty bad freshman year. But, I really can't think of a time when I wasn't doing this kind of thing."

"Why do you do this?"

He lifts a shoulder, shaking his head before laughing, "I was just so hungry. All the time." He continues in a whisper, "And nothing really helped." and he takes an unsteady breath. "I would just eat and eat, until there was nothing left. And then… I fell behind in other things— important things— and so… I stopped altogether. I, uh, went back-and-forth between eating everything and having nothing… because it didn't do anything." His eyes shift, "It's nothing but a big time waste."

"And now?" Aziz softly asks.

Ben faces him, gulping, "And now?" He half laughs, "I gave up. I don't even think about it, really. It's just something I do— something I have to do."

He looks over the large amount of food, disturbed, "Ben." Aziz shakes his head, "You don't need to do this." Ben looks down, and he continues, "Food is just a tool to live. You can't make it any more important than that."

"I'm not trying to," Ben shakily says, before he meets his eyes and Aziz watches as the tears fall from his eyes. "I wish I didn't need food at all."

"You're making food more important than you," Aziz calmly asserts, "whether you're eating it or not. Don't you hate that? Where's your will, your self-worth?"

Ben looks down, "It scares me." before he looks at him again. "You know, if someone goes without eating and then they eat a lot, their stomach can break. They can die."

Aziz's mouth gapes, "Ben. If this can kill you and you know it, then why? How can you do this when you know that?"

"Because," Ben slowly responds, "I can't stop." Aziz fails to comment, staring in shock, so he elaborates, "It's the only way I know how to be okay."

"But you're not okay," he disbelieves. "You're binging. You're restricting." Aziz realizes, "Ben. You have an eating disorder."

"No, I don't," he quietly denies. He grins in pain, "I'm just trying not to be hungry. Because, I'm always just so frickin' hungry, and… it's always just been this way." He laughs again, "You know, you would think I would be used to it by now." before he shakes his head. "But I'm not. I'm really not. And I just can't take it anymore." Aziz fails to speak, and he questions, "Why did this have to happen to me?"

"Have you talked to your doctor about this?" he suggests.

Ben takes a moment, "Not so directly." as his eyes shift down. "I think he would just blame it on being a teenager, you know, or being active." He thinks, "It did get worse around when all that started happening."

"A nutritionist would know," Aziz remarks. "Different people need different things. If you need more of one food than another—"

"Aziz," Ben interrupts. "Please. I don't want to deal with this right now."

He nods, "Okay." And there's a long pause before he changes the subject. "You know, I came this morning to take you to breakfast."

"You did?"

Aziz nods, "Yeah. Uh." Before he tries to smile. "Sounded like you were too busy killing off all the bad bunnies in your rose garden."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "I—"

"It was just a dream," he acknowledges. "It's fine. I get bad stuff too. It doesn't mean you want to think that way."

"It's just your mind getting ready for things," Ben recalls, before he questions, "What bad stuff have you dreamed about?"

"Mostly?" Aziz lets out a stressed breath, frowning. "Either getting held for ransom or the Jihadist extremists breaking into the castle to rape my sister." Ben's jaw drops. "Yeah. Um." He glances down at his hands before unsurely meeting Ben's eyes, "Not really the kind of thing you want to think about. And when I die, I can always feel it happen." He takes a moment, remembering the dagger, "I never wake up before I die. I have to feel it first." Ben doesn't speak, so he grins, "I guess my mind's really good at preparing itself."

"Yeah," Ben continues to frown.

"Well. I should let you be." He stands before raising his eyebrows and motioning a hand over the table, "You still wanted to do this alone. Right?"

"Uh, yeah," Ben attempts to smile, before he wets his lips. "I kind of have to."

Aziz nods, "Well, be safe. And give me a call if you feel your stomach break."

"Will do," Ben lets out a breath, before he watches Aziz leave. He glances over his meal with a deep frown. How is he supposed to eat this now?


	192. Temporary Fix

**Temporary Fix**

 **(Day 157: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"What did you need to speak to me about?" Fairy Godmother asks, as Mr. Conrad sits down across from her.

His brown eyes meets hers, "I need to admit to something." He pauses, "Ben Florian has come asking for extra credit a couple times now, insisting that he needs an A, and when he was one point off from getting it I gave it to him anyway."

The headmistress raises her eyebrows, "He insisted that he needed an A?"

He hesitates, "I think there might be abuse involved."

"I'm sure there is," she seriously comments, "but that does not excuse you from giving him an unwarranted grade. As I'm sure you're well aware, abusers find excuses to hurt their victims. This was only a temporary fix."

He nods with a frown, "I know." before he faces her. "What can we do?"

It takes a long minute for Fairy Godmother to inform, "Ben is not coming forward, and neither is Belle. All we have is our word against theirs, and hearsay will not hold up in court."

"So, there's nothing we can do?"

"Royals get away with a lot of things." She sighs, "This is my least favorite by far."

"I gave him my contact info," he lets her know. "I'm hoping that if he does find the courage to get help, then this way he has someone in his corner to turn to."

Fairy Godmother nods, "That is very nice of you."

The professor nods in return, "I understand if you would like my resignation. I shouldn't have changed his grade. I should have come to you as soon as I started to suspect his troubles."

"Then why didn't you?"

It takes him a moment, "I didn't want to believe it. No matter how young he is, he's still king. He has every resource and opportunity at his disposal." Mr. Conrad shakes his head, "I didn't want to believe that someone with so much power could still need so much help."

The headmistress continues to frown, "All you've done is try to help. I don't blame you for not wanting to see the signs. It's your intentions that matter. So, no, I will not be needing that resignation. You're staying here. We could use more staff like you."

Mr. Conrad smiles, "Thank you."

* * *

"Ben," Doug can't help but say as they sit at the table with their textbooks, and then Ben faces him. "About what we talked about, I think you should get emancipated."

"Emancipated?" Ben furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"Become responsible for yourself legally," he explains. "Find your own place to live."

Ben almost laughs, "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because," Ben loudly responds, before he sadly smiles and softly says, "I can't leave her with him. If I do this, then it's all over. She will always be his."

"Ben," Doug evenly responds, "your mother isn't going to leave your father for you."

"But at least this way I can take care of her," he reasons. "I can help her if something happens."

Doug nods with pursed lips, before he faces him, "You want to talk about help? If Belle is any mother to you, then if something bad does happen— if she does decide to leave— then she's going to make sure you get out first. And it's a lot easier for one person to escape somewhere than two."

Ben lifts his head up, "You're saying I could get her killed?"

"I'm saying," he corrects, "that if you really want to help your mother, then you will help yourself first."

Ben shakes his head, "I don't know if I can do that."

"Okay," Doug breathes, before he faces him again. "Think of it this way. If you have a place of your own to live, then your mother will have a place to go if she needs to get out." Ben doesn't say anything, so he continues, "But if you stay with her and your father, then even if the both of you can get out… you might not have anywhere to go." He looks off, "Anywhere where you wouldn't be putting anyone else in danger, anyway." Ben eyes down in contemplation, before Doug quietly urges, "If you won't do this for yourself, then you need to do it for the people you care about. You could give your mother a safe place— Mal a safe place." His green eyes plead, "Your people would always have a fair king. They wouldn't have to risk the end of your leadership, just because eventually you have to go home."

Ben lets out a breath as he thoughtfully nods, "Okay. I'll look into it."


	193. Isle Problems

**Isle Problems**

 **(Day 157: Tuesday Afternoon)**

"Where is she?" Carlos complains. "I need to get to the library."

Jay gives him a look, "What for? It's the last week of school. Every class has us watching videos or just doing stuff."

"I'm meeting a friend. Okay?" he widens his eyes at him.

"Jane?" he suspects.

"No," Carlos looks away from him. "Not Jane."

Mal leans back, crossing her arms as she crosses her legs on top of the desk, "Well, I don't know where she is, but I have a pretty good clue what we're here for." and when the others look at her she points to the board. "Isle of the Lost Problems." She rolls her eyes, "The last thing I needed was another therapy session this week."

"That bad?" Jay questions.

"Just be positive," Mal quotes in an annoyingly high pitch. "There's nothing you can do about the past, so what do you do?"

"Obsess about it until you can fix the problem," Carlos reasons.

"Break something," Jay thinks aloud.

"Ooh. I know," Evie chimes in. "You put on a bright face and act like it never happened."

Mal gives her a look, "It's scary just how much this place suites you." before she shakes her head. "Move on and build a brighter future. That's what she said." Mal huffs, "As though it's just that easy to forget your mother tortured you or your father tried to kill you." Mal scans over them before facing Jay, "I'm so glad you're all here."

"Same," Evie smiles, before the headmistress comes in and their attention is brought back to the front of the classroom.

"Okay," Fairy Godmother pulls a chair out in front of the four of them, attempting to smile. "Sorry I'm late. I had another matter to attend to." The four of them merely glance at each other. "Right," the headmistress uneasily continues. "Well. We are here, because I believe it's important to accept your past, before you can focus on your futures. And what better time to do that than before summer break?"

"But we'll still be seeing you this summer for that French class," Mal reminds her.

"Well, yes," she starts to frown, "but there's no time like the present." The four of them give each other another look, and she continues, "Okay. So, what I would like for all of you is to open up about something, perhaps something that happened while you were still on the Isle of the Lost, and maybe say how it makes you feel."

"Does it have to be from the Isle?" Carlos questions.

"Just something that's been bothering you. It could be anything," Fairy Godmother inputs. "What's important is that it's something deep you've been struggling with, maybe even something you haven't even told each other." There's a brief silence, before the headmistress looks towards the student farthest on the left, "Jay. Why don't you start?"

"Or, how about I don't?" he counters, and then Mal frowns, sitting up more and taking her legs off the desk.

"What?" Carlos counters, "Not man enough to talk about your feelings?"

"At least I don't miss how it feels like to have sex with my mother," Jay loudly retorts.

"That never happened," Carlos quietly condemns.

"Because, you don't miss the way she hurt you," he doubts. "Being a masochist, you don't wish you could just feel that sweet stinging burn again."

"Shut up."

"What? That's why you want to go back, ain't it?" Jay continues on. "It's not even about missing her. You just miss the way she would fuck you over."

"Shut up," Carlos yells at him with widened eyes.

"Why? It's the truth, isn't it?"

Fairy Godmother notices Carlos on the verge of tears, "That's enough." before they turn back to her and she faces Jay. "This is what I'm talking about. You think you can avoid your own problems by drudging up someone else's. That needs to stop."

"I don't have any problems," he denies.

"Well, good," Fairy Godmother eyes him down, before scans over the others. "Now. Who else thinks they don't have any problems?"

"I was raped," Mal hears herself say, before she looks up and notices the others staring at her in awe. "On the Isle. Harry Hook. He, uh…" Her breathing becomes faster, "We were behind Ursula's restaurant making out behind the crates, and he—" She shakily breathes as her eyes begin to burn, "He held me down, forced my hands over my head, and held them there with that stupid hook." She runs her hands over her wrists, "My mother always told me to keep up my strength, that I would need it in a world like this, but… I didn't want to be like her, so when this happened—" Mal lets out a long breath, "I was the weakest being on Earth."

Jay deeply frowns, "You never told me this."

"I told others," before she sadly laughs. "They all just thought I was sleeping my way to the top, trying to knock him down on my way there."

"I wouldn't have thought that," he lets her know.

"No," she accepts. "You would have gone after him."

"And he would have deserved it," Jay asserts.

"But you don't deserve to die," Mal yells back, and she cries through the deathly silent room. "You were the one person I had in my life who actually cared. I couldn't lose you. And Hook." Mal gulps, "He wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone, especially not my—" She sadly smiles, "My brother. Because, then you'd be gone, and I— I'd be his again, probably."

"I don't understand," Jay comments. "How could you not have wanted revenge?"

"No. I did," Mal nods, before she shakes her head. "I still do. Every. Single. Day."

* * *

"I think the worst part was that I always had to act like I was fine," Evie admits, as she rubs her arm. "I wasn't allowed to cry or smile or speak— good princesses only speak when spoken to." She glances down, "And I like makeup and all, but on the Isle that makes you a target. You can never go anywhere alone, and you become so dependent on others to talk for you because you aren't taken seriously. You're a flirt. That's all. You could be asking to trade bread for fabric, and suddenly you're just some slut tricking them into some false sexual exchange." She folds her arms, "And I couldn't take it off ever, because—" Evie takes a deep breath as the tears intrude her eyes, "'Cause, then the bruises would be seen. You know, I think she hit me sometimes just so I'd wear the makeup and attract some guy. Find a prince, she said. Like there's any real princes on the Isle." She nods to the right, "She even had me set up with Jay at some point, because his father was Sultan for like five seconds."

"Wait," Jay confusedly looks at her. "What?"

"Yeah," Evie takes out her nail file to distract herself. "You're really not my type."

After a minute Fairy Godmother questions, "Evie. Do you have anything else to share?"

"Other than her outbursts of telekinesis and all the times she almost accidently killed me?" she sarcastically comments. "No. Not really."

"Okay," the headmistress takes a breath. "Maybe another time." She eyes between Carlos and Jay, "What about you?"

"Uh." Carlos points out, "It's kind of time to leave."

Fairy Godmother looks at the clock, "So it is." before she smiles. "Have a wonderful day, and I will see you all here tomorrow."

As the others hurry out of the room, Mal takes her time to stand from the chair and then eyes the board, "I think just Isle Problems would be good enough."

The headmistress examines the title on the board, "You think so?"

Mal smirks at her, "No one on the Isle calls it the Isle of the Lost." before she steps past her. "Also, a lot more clean and simple."

* * *

\- Yeah. This is one of those stories (notice title). I hope you don't mind.


	194. About My Mother

**About My Mother**

 **(Day 159: Thursday Afternoon)**

"About my mother," Carlos unsurely begins before he shakes his head. "I've thought about this all night, and I still can't think of a way to say it."

"Just get in a room with Ben," Mal mumbles. "Hash it out there."

He turns to her, "What did you say?"

Mal makes a face, "Nothing." before she nods up. "Go on."

"She did hurt me," Carlos faces the headmistress again. "It's been going on for a very long time, and… I don't know what changed. When I was younger she did it a lot less, and there was always a clear reason why. But when I got older… Now, it's happened almost every day, and it happens whether I do my chores or not." He looks down, "Maybe she thought if she stopped… giving me attention, then I'd stop doing my chores again."

After he falls silent Fairy Godmother questions, "How did you feel when you got that kind of attention?"

"Intense?" he unsurely answers, before he remembers, "But then, there's this calming feeling, and by the time it's over… I'm just relaxed."

Mal thinks, "Are you relaxed, because it's over or because it happened?"

He takes a moment, "I don't really know." before he pauses. "All I know is it got to a point where I kind of actually looked forward to it sometimes."

"You looked forward to it?" Fairy Godmother seriously repeats.

"Sometimes." He quietly explains, "Other times I would just get all nervous, knowing that it would be happening soon."

"Sounds like sex," Jay inputs.

"Would you shut up?" Carlos shouts at him. "I'm trying to open up here." Jay doesn't respond, and Carlos takes a deep breath before facing the headmistress, "The reason why I've been thinking about going back, it's not even about the pain. I promise. I mean, I'm a klutz. I get hurt all the time, and I sabotage myself enough the way it is."

"Then why?' she inquires.

He looks down in thought, "Because. I have no one here."

When he faces Fairy Godmother she comments, "You have your friends. You have Jane."

Carlos continues to frown, "But my friends aren't my mother. My mother would tell me what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. But now… all I have is my choices. Everything I do is just some pointless direction with no real reason behind it."

"Yeah." Jay comments, "It's called freedom." but Carlos doesn't even look at him.

"You need direction," Fairy Godmother assumes. "A parental figure."

Mal notices Carlos's expression, "No." and they look at her. "He just needs someone to order him around, give his life meaning." His face shifts, and she sees the underlying relief. He didn't have to say it aloud or hold it in. She took care of that for him, and even though the others may not be so certain, Mal knows and Carlos knows Mal knows. She smirks. She can help him now, and it might actually put her mischievous desires to something good.

* * *

"So. King Ben, what may I help you with," the lawyer questions as Ben takes a seat across from him.

He meets Mr. Droits blue eyes, "I'd like to know about emancipation."

He slowly starts to frown, "For you or someone else?"

"Is there a difference?" Ben concerns.

"I would say so," the man seriously answers. "Emancipation is the process of disowning your parents. You would lose your inheritance."

Ben shakes his head, "I don't care about the money."

"It's not just the money," he widens his eyes. "It's the crown. You could lose your right to it if you were to do this."

Ben opens his mouth before awkwardly smiling, "But I've already been crowned king. That can't just be taken back."

It takes a long moment for Mr. Droit to advise, "I wouldn't take the chance."

"But I'm an only child," he points out, "and my parents are the only family I have." He notices the lawyer hold his silence. "What? Am I wrong?"

The brown haired man hesitates, "If you go back far enough there is always someone who could inherit the throne if you don't, but even if there wasn't you know the law very well. Your kingdom would just be given to another royal family, and if you were to disinherit your parents the previous king would choose who takes his place. Not you."

"If he still wants someone to take his place," Ben lets out a breath.

"In my personal opinion," the lawyer discloses, "you make a much better king. A king is nothing without his kingdom. You're aware of that. Your father wasn't."

"I don't want to abandon my people," he carefully states. "I just don't know what to do."

Mr. Droit takes a minute, "Ben. What led you to this question of emancipation?" He places a hand to where his shoulder had fractured, his eyes lowering, but no words leave his mouth. "Is it your father?"

Ben darts his eyes to him in terror, and his arm drops down as his quietly breathes, "What would my father have to do with this?"

He continues to frown, "Keep in mind I'm not allowed to break client privilege." before he pauses. "But there was a time when your mother sat where you are today."

Ben's eyes shift, "What was she here for?"

He hesitates, "She wanted to know if it was possible to divorce a royal."

Ben glances down, "Is it?"

"It is." His blue eyes are thoughtful, "But she decided the cons weren't worth it."

He shakes his head, "I don't understand. My parents always seemed so happy, even when things aren't the most perfect."

"People don't always ask for divorce because they no longer love the person," the lawyer informs. "Sometimes there's more personal reasons."

"Like what?"

Mr. Droit takes a moment, "Ben. Are you afraid of your father at all?"

He awkwardly smiles, "Why would I be afraid of him?"

"Has he ever hurt you?" he questions on.

Ben forces his eyes to stay on his, "He would never want to hurt me."

"But has he?"

Ben narrows his eyes, "This is ridiculous." before he stands from his seat.

When he turns around Mr. Droit shouts, "Stop." and he turns back around in shock. The lawyer calmly continues, "Just because you can't be emancipated does not mean there are no other options."

"No," Ben shakes his head. "I was just being stupid. This isn't necessary."

"Ben," the lawyer stresses, "you can make a difference."

"How?" his widens his eyes in disbelief.

"When your mother chose to leave that led you to sit where she sat," he sternly reminds him. "I don't want to see a third person sitting here, offering me the exact same rhetoric the two of you have."

It takes a long minute for Ben to calmly conclude, "There won't be." before he turns around to head off again.

* * *

"So, you really can't get emancipated?" Doug quietly questions.

Ben slowly shakes his head, "Not unless I want to give the people back to my father."

"Ben," he begins.

"No," Ben asserts. "No life is worth more than the millions I rule over."

"I was just going to say," Doug explains, "that the choice you made must have been really hard. You're a good king, putting your people's needs ahead of your own."

"What happened to there's no kingdom without a king?"

He takes a moment, "At least your people have you when you made this decision. We couldn't handle having your father in charge again." and his green eyes meet his. "I'm really glad you didn't leave us."

"Yeah," Ben lets out a calming breath. "You're welcome."

After momentary silence he questions, "So, how does it feel to be going back home?"

There's this emptiness. Not emptiness, actually; it's more like this deep sense of knowing, but he can't translate what it means. "It doesn't mean anything." He faces him, "It's the same year after year. This summer won't be any different."


	195. All Good

**All Good**

 **(Day 160: Friday Afternoon)**

"So, you have nothing to share?" Fairy Godmother doubts.

"Nope," Jay leans back at the desk, smiling. "Now that I'm in the land of cherry trees everything's fine. Good school. Good food. Good girlfriend."

"And you have nothing from your time on the Isle to share?"

"Nothing worth talking about," he crosses his arms. "I'm moving on."

"And there's nothing recent that's been bothering you?" she slowly asks.

"Nope. Everything's good now."

Carlos furrows his eyebrows at him, "Fuck you."

Jay offers him an even look, humming, "I don't think so." before he turns back to the headmistress; however, then Carlos hits him on the shoulder. He quickly faces him again, "Hey."

"Why don't you do it back?" he almost smiles. "Get even."

Jay looks him up and down, "No." before he shakes his head. "Look. Fairy Godmother, I really just want to get on with whatever's next. I'm not the dwelling kind."

"Unresolved issues can impact a person greatly," she lets him know. "I'm giving you the opportunity now to relieve yourself of that stress."

"Do I look like I have stress?" Jay rhetorically comments before smiling. "I'm all good."

"So, you have no unresolved issues with your father?"

Jay narrows his eyes and leans forward, "My father'd better hope I don't see his filthy face ever again."

"Oh?" Fairy Godmother smiles. "And why's that?"

"Because," Jay grits his teeth. "If I ever see him again I will kill him."

"Why?"

"He tried to kill me," he evenly responds. "Why not him?"

It takes her a moment to entertain, "And how would you kill him?"

There's a minute of silence, before Jay concludes, "Tie him up somewhere cold, bleed him until he's too weak to move, and then watch him starve for the few weeks he has left. By the end of it he will be begging me to cut him loose, tell me how much he loves me and what a great son I've been to him."

She notices him start to frown, "What's wrong?"

Jay thinks, "He gets like that. He'll tell me how much he loves me one day and then throw knives at me the next." before he eyes down. "Something's wrong with him."

"Do you believe, then, that he deserves to die?"

Jay meets her dark brown eyes, "When my mother asked him to get help, to see Dr. Hyde, he killed her. Right in front of me. In the kitchen, he had this long knife." and a stillness washes over him. He makes the motion, "He held it firm, starting just below her heart and gutting her down. Like an animal." He recalls her terrified whisper, "Sorry, she said. She knew she'd abandoned me, left me with this monster. And the next second she dropped, smacked her head on the table, and blood filled the floor."

"So, you would be killing him for her," the headmistress examines.

"No. I'll be doing it, because I want to."

Fairy Godmother notices his eyes are glossed over, and he's far too calm for the subject matter, "Do you plan on killing him?"

"I don't plan on anything," Jay evenly explains. "It will happen when it does, if he's stupid enough to try to talk to me again."

"And are you sure you could go through with it, watching another human being take his last breath?"

The more he thinks about it the more clear his mind is and the more calm he feels, "People say I'm confident. I'm not. I just speak before I think. But this, this is the one thing I'm absolutely sure about."

"Jay," Fairy Godmother attempts to reason, "just because your father was a killer, doesn't mean you need to be. You can choose how to live your life."

"Exactly," Jay counters. "If I kill him, then the future's all mine. He won't kidnap me. He won't kill my wife. He won't scare my kids. He won't be taking my life." Jay grins, "Because, it's going to be all mine. Like he always said, if you want it take it. If you can't have it, break it. And when I'm done breaking him, the fire will wash him and everything he's ever touched away. Only I will remain."

Mal claps, and everyone turns to her, "Great story, Jay."

It takes a moment for him to chuckle, "Yeah. And she fell for it."

Fairy Godmother looks between the two, confused, "What's going on here?"

"His mom left," Mal fakes a smile. "You don't need to worry about him killing anyone or anything. He made it up."

When the headmistress turns back to Jay he makes a face, "You wanted a story. I gave you one." before he eyes up at the clock. "Time to go." He stretches before standing, but when he makes it out of the room Mal pulls him to the side of the hall.

"What the hell?" She glances around, furiously whispering, "I mean, how much more of an idiot could you be?"

"Sorry?"

She hits him on the chest, "You were going to leave me."

"I wasn't—"

"They would've taken you," she desperately concludes.

He lets out a breath and smiles, "I'm sorry. You're right. I'm an idiot."

Mal narrows her eyes at him, "Yeah, and you'll get caught if you try to do this by yourself, so if you're really serious about it—" She looks sternly into his eyes, "I'm going to be there for you when that opportunity comes and if you still want to. Got it?"

"Yeah," his eyebrows raise. "Got it."

Mal takes a deep breath, "I hate therapy. You up for a drink?"

It takes him a moment to say, "We're going to the castle today, remember? We don't have the time—"

"Then we can have it there," she asserts. "Let's walk now, so we can have some later."

Jay frowns, "I didn't make you want a drink, did I?"

"No," Mal tilts her head. "Some authority figures just know how to rub my scales the wrong way."

He smiles, "Nice pun."

"Yeah," Mal sighs. "I thought so."

* * *

\- How awesome would it be if Jay eventually became a father who kills a pedophile eyeing his little girl?... I already had a pedophile storyline planned for a long time from now (like when Mal already has her own daughter) so it would be pretty easy to implement. Don't worry. I didn't spoil anything. Mal's daughter doesn't get hurt or anything... Okay. Now I spoiled something. All well. Probably about twenty books from now. Surely you'll forget by then.

\- **Next Up** : Spoiler, the story ends with Ben and Chad in a hotel room... any guesses how that happens? Remember, five chapters left. A lot can happen in a day or two...


	196. Take Care of Yourself

**Take Care of Yourself**

 **(Day 160: Friday Afternoon)**

"I can't believe the school year's already over," Ben frowns as he watches Doug zip up his suitcase.

He grabs it and turns to him, "Ben. I have to ask." before he pauses, searching his eyes for the truth. "Are you going to be okay, going back home?"

Ben nods, "Yeah."

Doug continues to frown, "Right." before he nods in return. "Take care of yourself."

"You're not leaving now," his eyes widen.

"Ben," Doug hesitates, "I have to catch the train." He watches as Ben looks away and runs a hand over his face. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Ben feels his heartrate increase as the tears intrude his eyes and his voice crackles, "Why wouldn't I be?"

He looks over him, "I really wish we could have done something."

"Yeah," Ben attempts to pull himself together, before he halfheartedly laughs, "Me too."

* * *

"Mother?" Ben voices, as they sit at the restaurant table.

"Yes?" she inquires.

His words escape him, and his eyes shift down. How could he possibly ask why she wanted to divorce his father? It couldn't have been anything good, and if the lawyer's right he probably wouldn't want to know. Not right now. He wets his lips, "Can you pass the salt?"

After she gives it to him she comments, "Must be nice, not having to worry about schoolwork for a while. Now you have time to implement some real ideas into the community."

"Yeah," his eyes shift in unsureness.

She looks at him in suspicion, "Honey, what's wrong?"

He takes a moment, before he faces her, "Technically speaking, someone could move out at a younger age if both the parents and child left the authorities out of it."

His mother cautiously frowns, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that the castle won't be safe for them," he excuses. "Father can barely tolerate us, and supposedly he loves us. He hates villains. What do you think will happen?"

She glances over the wide open area, "This is neither the time nor place for this conversation."

"Travis is getting them soon," Ben reminds her. "Now's the perfect time."

"King or not," his mother emphasizes, "you are still but a child. You can't possibly go out on your own so soon."

Ben sighs, "Mother."

"And where would you live?"

He shakes his head, "Where does anyone live?"

She laughs, "You're a royal. You're going to need more security than that."

"Mother," Ben tries to reason.

"No," she asserts. "You're my son. You're not leaving me." He stares at her, unable to speak, and she lets out a breath in embarrassment, "Pardon me. That came out wrong."

"No," Ben quietly understands, before he meets her eyes. "It's fine."

"It's just," she attempts to explain, "your father wouldn't make it easy."

He continues to frown, "It's fine. I get it."

His mother pokes a fork into her salad, "As for your friends, they can stay in the East Wing— still give them a tour, of course, so they don't get too curious— and then the amount of time your father has with them should be minimal."

Ben nods, "I was thinking the same thing."

* * *

\- Posted: 02/21/2019

\- I had a hard time researching this, but maybe some of you will know. The actors that play Ben and Mal in the movies, do either of their eyes contain a black ring around the iris? This would just be something really good to know continuing forward.


	197. Animal

**Animal**

 **(Day 160: Friday Afternoon)**

Ben smiles from the bottom of the stairs, as he sees the four of them come in, "Welcome to my…"

"Humble abode?" Evie finishes.

Ben half laughs, "Uh." before he points to each area. "The room over there is used for meetings. Out back we have the… a table and a pool, and between the two staircases we have the… fire place."

"Still not a hundred percent?" Mal smiles, and he awkwardly smiles in return before pointing, "Let's go up the stairs."

The others follow him, but when they get to the top of the first flight Evie asks, "Is this rug new? I don't remember it."

Ben's smile slowly fades, "Yes. It's new." before he reaches for the back of his head.

"Ben?" Mal concerns.

He turns to her, "My fall, where I cracked my shoulder, it might have been more bad than I first led on." She fails to speak, so he faces the others, "Move back." and then takes Mal's hand to guide her to the stairs. He sits down, wetting his lips, before he hesitates to bend the rug over to reveal the faded red stain on the white marble.

Evie gasps, "Ben." before she places her hands over her mouth.

"That looks bad," Carlos slowly points out.

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "They tried to clean it out, but it wouldn't."

"So, they covered it up?" Jay raises an eyebrow.

Ben folds the rug back down, "You know what they say. Sweep it under the rug. It'll probably be fine."

"Who says that?" Carlos doubts.

Ben thinks, "Some scary videogame. Not so funny now, though."

"Ready?" Ben hears his mother say, before he looks over his shoulder and stands.

He nods, "We're ready."

* * *

"And this is—" Belle turns around as she reaches the end of the room, "Well, to be honest, this room has always been more of a decorative piece." She gestures, "But there are places to sit, and the balcony has a nice view."

Mal nods as she attempts to smile, "It's almost as nice as the first time I saw it."

Belle laughs, "Yes. There's not much to it, is there?" She peers over at Evie, as she places her hand carefully over the blank area of wall. "Evie?"

Evie touches the soft canvas of the torn painting, but through the darkness it's hard for her to tell who the painting is of. There's one thing she can see, however, and when she glimpses the light she turns to it. It's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, and the closer she walks to it the more the red light shapes into a glowing rose. Somehow the glass disappears and she feels compelled to reach for the flower, but when she's inches away from it she feels a hand grasp hard around her arm and spin her around. She shuts her eyes and screams, but when she opens them only Mal is seen. Evie lets out a relieved breath, "Mal. You scared me."

"Clearly." Mal questions, "What were you doing?"

"Oh." Evie smiles, "I was just looking at the rose. It's just so beautiful, isn't it?"

"Ah," Carlos unsurely comments, "Evie." She turns to him. "There is no rose."

"What do you mean?" Evie laughs, before she gestures to the circular table. "It's right—" Her smile drops, "It's not here." She shuts her eyes and shakes her head. "Mal. I— I don't like this room."

Mal places a hand on her shoulder, "It's okay, Eves. Just wait out in the hallway. I'll be out there in a minute."

She nods, "Okay."

After Evie nears the exit Mal looks at Jay and Carlos, "Maybe you two should check on her, make sure she's okay."

"Why?" Carlos questions. "Isn't that your job?"

Mal widens her eyes and points towards the door, "Get out!"

When they finally leave Mal turns back around to Belle. She waits for an explanation, but when there isn't one Mal shakes her head. "Come on. I know you know what a witch is. Your village accused you of being a sorceress when you came back with the enchanted mirror."

"That was quite a ridiculous assumption," Belle evenly replies. "I mean, do I look like a fairy witch?"

Mal frowns, "Just tell me what she saw."

Belle's smile falters as she looks down at her folded hands for a moment, "When Adam was the beast he spent a lot of time in here." She looks back up at her, "It's possible that all of the anger and confusion he was feeling at the time is still imprinted in this space somehow." Mal doesn't speak. "I'm sure that's all it was."

Mal shakes her head, "No. She saw something. I know she saw something." She takes a step towards Belle. "Right before I got her out of it, she saw something and she screamed."

"Hey." Mal turns to the door and sees Ben. "What's going on?"

Belle gives him a look, "I was just telling Mal about how sad and angry your father was back when he was the beast."

"Awe." Ben takes a few steps forward, "Yes. My father has always been a little…" He smiles at Mal, before he says a word in French.

Mal furrows her brows in confusion, "Meaning what?"

"Meaning that I think you should maybe join the others in the hall." She crosses her arms. "Please," he frowns. "I need to talk to her."

"Why can't I be here when you do?" He fails to speak, and she nods, "Right. You need your private time with Mommy. I get it." and Ben listens as her boots stomp away.

After she's gone Ben looks back at his mother and walks towards her, "I heard Evie scream. What happened?"

"She didn't tell you?" Belle asks.

"No." Ben shakes his head, "All she said is that she saw a torn portrait and a rose." She looks away for a moment. "It was the enchanted rose, wasn't it? She saw something that happened back then." His mother doesn't speak. "What was it?"

"I'm not sure."

"You must have some kind of idea," Ben insists. "She screamed, so maybe it was a time you were scared. What could that have been?"

She stays quiet with an even expression, before she comments, "You didn't tell me Evie is a witch."

Ben shifts in his stance, "I didn't think it was important."

His mother sternly eyes him, "You should have known it was."

Ben look away for a mere second, "Come on, Mother. What were the chances that she'd pick up on the one or two times that he's hurt you?" She doesn't respond, leaving Ben to frown in concern. "Mother?"

"Witches don't just pick up on violence. They can pick up on any strong, unpleasant feeling or situation." Her lips stay parted before she continues, "And your father." She shakes her head. "Your father used to yell a lot."

Ben tries to smile, "Hasn't he always been like that?"

It takes a minute for her to say, "It used to be worse." and there's momentary silence before she continues. "I just don't want his image tarnished by anything she may sense."

Ben frowns, "I mean, they'll be staying in the East Wing. That's good, right?"

"This is your father's castle," she pointedly reminds him. "He's been everywhere."

He looks down, "Mother." before he meets her brown eyes. They're colder, sadder, than he remembers, "How bad was it? Really."

"It's the small things that bothers me the most," she admits. "Like how loudly he would knock or when he'd become so… well, overly protective."

Ben watches her attempt to smile, before he quietly says, "Mother."'

"Just make sure she doesn't get my old room," she solves. "It will be okay."

She still looks so sad. "Mom."

"And don't breathe a word of this to your father," her eyebrows raise, and Ben notices her eyes gleam in the light. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," he frowns, but when he opens his mouth again to raise his concerns she steps closer to him. He whispers, "Why didn't you leave him when Mr. Droit said you could?"

Her smile slips, but she strains another as she lifts her hand to his cheek, "I love you."

He opens his mouth to point out that she didn't answer him, but then he sees the tears drop from her eyes. He quietly comments, "I love you too."

She lets her hand fall back to her side, "Why don't you show your friends to the library? I'll be right with you."

Ben can't help but notice her shake slightly, "You're sure?"

"Yes. I'll be right there." She looks down as she places her hand on the marble table, "I just need a minute."

"Okay." Ben takes a step back, "I'll see you in the library." before he turns to leave.

Belle stares down at the vase of flowers, which has taken place of the enchanted rose and spell jar that was once there. She remembers how she'd taken the jar off of the flower, before she had moved her hand in to touch it; however, she never got the chance. Her arm was snatched by the beast's paw, and when she had been turned to face him she screamed. Up close he had looked even more intimidating than he had from the distance, and when he yelled, "What are you doing here?" she could barely speak. "I told you never to come here!" He'd pushed her away, resulting in her having fallen to the cold floor, and when he hovered over her, telling her to leave, she didn't have to be told twice. Immediately, she got to her feet, and she ran.

She turns away from the scene and looks out at the balcony. It had been the perfect night, the best night she had had in a long while, so at the end of it when he asked, "Are you happy here with me?" she had to say yes. She had to say yes, because it was true. He even released her from the castle prison that night, just so she could go and find the one thing she'd been missing: her father.

Belle turns again, as she remembers the argument, "Why can't you just give him a chance?"

"I gave him a chance," her father sternly responded. "I did nothing but support you both and the love you shared for each other for years, but I've seen too much now and I can't stay quiet any longer." He let out a sad breath, "He's not a good man, Belle."

She'd shook her head, "He's been nothing but kind and gentle to me."

His jaw dropped, before he exasperated, "I know you're not talking about that monster."

"He's not a monster," she had insisted. "He's the best man I could have ever asked for."

"He's hurt you, Belle."

"That's not his fault," she yelled.

"No. It isn't," her father nodded in acknowledgement. "It's yours for marrying that animal in the first place." He frowned with so much sadness held in his eyes. "I thought I raised you better than that."

"Wow." She widened her eyes and crossed her arms, "Now tell me what you really think."

He shut his eyes for a moment, "I know you love him darling, but you have to leave. You can't stay here with him."

She laughed at the absurdity, "I can't just leave. We have a child."

"Even more of a reason for you to leave him," her father reasoned. "Do you really want your son to experience what you've gone through?"

Belle remembers how the tears started to fall from her eyes, "You don't get it. Our son is the heir to the throne. Adam has a complete legal right to him. Even if I wanted to leave, I couldn't." Her father was motionless, stunned, his face paled before he could shake his head.

"This isn't right."

All Belle could do was try to smile as she walked up to her father and placed her hands on his shoulders, "It's fine. I'm happy here. We have a good life… and, sure, Adam can be a little temperamental at times, but that doesn't make him love me any less. You have to believe me, Papa. He would never hurt me intentionally."

"Maybe," her father sniffled. "But that doesn't make him any less dangerous."

* * *

\- The videogame Ben is quoting is actually a fangame called Dayshift at Freddy's made for the Five Nights at Freddy's (FNAF) fanbase. Not nearly as scary as the actual FNAF franchise— pretty comedic, in fact— but a very good game for those who are a wuss like me and can't play scary games... Scary movies don't bother me, though. Maybe it's the interactive aspect... I thought I would be okay in a scary situation. Now, I'm not too sure.


	198. It's Nothing

**It's Nothing**

 **(Day 160: Friday Afternoon)**

Belle eyes over the large library, "I'm actually not certain that our relationship could have grown without this place."

"Is there anything in English?" Carlos questions.

She turns back to the group, "Over there." before she points to the side wall. "Not much of a selection, I'm afraid."

Jay gives Carlos a look, "I thought you already knew French."

"Not really," he softly states. "I mostly just learned swear words and phrases." He scratches his arm, "My mother wasn't much of a teacher."

After some silence Ben's mother turns to him, "Why don't you take it from here?"

"Yeah," Ben accepts, before he watches her sit down, the others turn to him, and he rubs his hands over each other. "I will show you to the East Wing, where you will be staying for the summer. You will need to be brought to dinner or the library by either me or my mother. For breakfast and lunch you will have that in the old servants' dining room. There's a stove and fridge there now too, so we'll get that stocked for you."

"So, the East Wing is where?" Carlos slowly asks.

"Right," Ben recalls, before he smiles, "Let's finish our walk, shall we?"

* * *

"These rooms are huge," Carlos's mouth gapes.

"Your mother lives in a mansion," Jay furrows his eyebrows.

He gives him a look, "And the top floor was completely rotted, so I had to sleep in the room she turned into her own personal walk-in closet."

Jay's expression softens, "Really?"

"I barely had enough room for a bed," Carlos continues on. "Why do you think I don't own anything?"

It takes him a moment to say, "I didn't know."

Carlos frowns for a minute, "We know like nothing about each other."

After some more silence Mal unsurely turns to Ben, "Could I stay with Evie? I just don't see the point in having different rooms."

Ben continues to frown, "I didn't think… you know, that she was giving you heat anymore."

"She isn't," Mal reassures, "but the bed is so big. She wouldn't be going to the hospital again or anything."

He wets his lips, "I would think about it, but you already have a room here. Remember?"

Mal eyes down, "Right."

"But you can see her," he quickly says. "I just think my mother would want you closer, you know, because you're my girlfriend."

Mal rolls her eyes, "Right. Your mother."

Ben watches her as her head lowers and she twists the ring back-and-forth on her finger, before he looks at the others, "Could you give us a minute?"

"Sure," Evie eyes over them, before she enters a room and the others follow her.

Ben turns back to Mal and notices her frown, "You don't like it when I talk about my mother. Why?"

Mal shakes her head, "It's nothing."

"It's something," he softly disagrees.

She meets his hazel green eyes, "It doesn't need to be talked about."

"Please. If you don't, I'll think the worst."

Mal looks off, "I doubt that."

"I won't be able to stop thinking about it," he insists, before she looks him up and down. "Just tell me. We should be able to talk about these things."

"These things," she uneasily laughs, before she faces him in hesitance, "I guess I just don't really get how you could be so close to her."

"Close?"

"I don't get how someone could be so… caring about their parents," she rephrases.

Ben shakes his head, "She's always been there for me."

"Really?" Mal raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms.

"Well," he scratches the back of his head, "maybe not all the time. But enough."

"Do you love her?" Mal can't help but ask.

"She's my mother," Ben half laughs with an awkward smile. "Of course I do."

"Right," her eyes shift.

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

She faces him and changes the subject, "The rose you got me isn't dying."

"It's not supposed to die," he smiles again.

"No. I mean," Mal stresses.

"I know what you mean," Ben steps forward. "It won't die for a while. It's special."

"Special?" she continues to frown.

"It's from my parents' rose garden. They're from the rose from the curse," he explains before taking her hands. "I really was sorry. I needed you to know that."

Mal's eyes shift as she remembers the incident, "Right."

He notices her expression and shakes his head, "I should have told you. I'm stupid." but even though she looks up at him she doesn't speak. "You stayed with me even though I didn't tell you the rose was special."

She attempts to smile, "I like the way it feels to be with you."

"Because of the heat," Ben assumes.

Mal's expression falters, "I don't know."

* * *

When Mal enters the room Evie inquires, "What did you talk about?"

Mal shakes her head, "It's nothing." before she goes to sit on the bed and faces Carlos. "My jacket is on the coat rack by the front door. Get it."

After he gets up and leaves Jay frowns at her, "Why did you even take it off?"

"So he could get it," Mal surmises, before she notices Jay's confusion and gives him a look, "You heard him at the Isle Problems meeting. He needs someone to give him a purpose." She raises her eyebrows, "Would you like to?"

Jay scoffs, "No. That would make things weird as hell."

"Then stop complaining," she solves, before she maliciously smiles. "You still got that bottle on you?"

Jay offers an annoyed expression, before he unzips his jacket and takes the wine out, "Are you sure you need it right now?"

"As much as I'm sure this is going to be a long summer," Mal irritably says, before she nods him over, "Come on. Get over here."

He makes a displeased noise, before he stands from the desk chair and goes to sit next to her. He hands it over, "Here." before she opens it, takes a swing, and offers it to Evie.

"Want some?"

She brightly smiles in uncomfortableness, "No thanks. I'm good."

"Right. Calories," Mal remembers, before she hands it back to Jay.

He takes a sip, "How long do you think you'll get away with this?"

Mal takes the bottle back, "Not nearly long enough."

* * *

"Mal?" When she doesn't answer Evie opens the bathroom door, "Mal?" She sees her staring into the mirror, "What are you doing?"

"Thinking," she unenthusiastically answers.

"About what?" she smiles.

"Hook." Evie's expression falls, before she takes a step forward. "I thought I was getting over it, but then Fairy Godmother just had to get us to talk about our problems and Jay almost got sent back there where I'd never see him again."

Evie takes a moment, "This isn't about Jay."

Mal continues to look at her reflection as she touches her curls, "He took everything from me. I can't even see my hair anymore without thinking about it all." Evie stays quiet, and Mal questions, "What do you think of brown? It wouldn't be too different, right? Like, I'd still be me." She offers Evie a hopeful look with sad, gleaming eyes, "Right?"

Evie attempts to smile back, "Dark brown would really bring out your eyes."

Mal turns back to the mirror and nods, "It would."


	199. Untraceable

**Untraceable**

 **(Day 161: Saturday Evening)**

"We got your grades," Ben hears his father say, and he freezes, faced to the fridge as he grips tightly onto the soda in his hands. "I told you this would happen." His voice is so angry. Does he look angry? Ben slowly turns around and lets out a relieved breath. There is no sign of illness in his expression or posture. His face looks quiet even, actually. Ben's frown deepens. Does that make this better or worse? "Minuses across the board," he fumes, before his eyebrows raise, "And a B in English?"

Ben stares blankly at him, "I did the best I could."

"Don't you dare blame this on your injury," his voice raises. "You can pull that crap with your mother, but you will not get this past me."

He's quiet for a moment, "I know."

"So," his father emphasizes. "How could you allow this?"

"I tried," Ben cracks a smile.

"Clearly not enough," he says in a softer, almost disappointed voice.

"You're the reason my mind turned to shit," Ben's mouth gapes. "And now you have the nerve to tell me I didn't even try?"

"Because you didn't," he asserts. "I know you were accommodated. There's no reason why you shouldn't have done just as well as before."

Ben gulps, as he feels the tears intrude his eyes, "I already wasn't eating or sleeping. What else was I supposed to do?"

His father offers him the same expression he had had when he apologized for assuming he could handle being king, "That's why you didn't do as good. To do good work you need a life-work balance."

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "Fuck you." before he shakes his head and marches past him; however, then he feels his arm get grabbed.

He turns around and sees his father lean in, "If you think you're going to get away with that, you'd be mistaken."

Still no real anger in his features. Ben pulls his arm out of the grip, before he meets his father's piercing blue eyes, knowing he had willingly let him go, and turns around to walk back into the dining room.

Adam slowly walks behind him and watches Ben scurries over to the hallway, as Belle calls out, "Where are you going?"

When she gives Adam a look he quietly explains, "We just spoke about his grades. He didn't handle my input very well."

"Well, what did you say?" she inquires.

He slowly speaks, "Just that I felt he could have done better and that a better work-life balance could have helped with that." before he goes to sit down next to her.

"He does get rather obsessed with work," Belle worries, before she attempts a smile. "I will get him to do a puzzle later, so we can debate it calmly."

Adam merely nods, before Mal's eyes shift, "Maybe I should check on him."

"No," Belle slightly shakes her head. "He thinks too much. Right now, he just needs some time to settle down and sort things out."

"To not think," Evie understands.

Belle smiles more, "Exactly."

* * *

"Ben?" Belle knocks on the door. "Ben?" Her smile slips, before she opens the door and notices the empty room. She walks over to the bathroom but can't find him there either. She turns back to the door, glancing around the room, before she notices the cellphone on the bedside table set over his ID. She stares at it, before she recalls something from the previous year.

"I got us a security box at the bank," he had let her know.

"Why?" she'd questioned.

"You know how father can get when he isn't well," he seriously states. "We need to prepare in case—"

"He loves us."

Ben takes a moment, before he changes course, "If there's a fire all of our things would still be here, but if something does happen we're going to need clothes, money… a way to contact each other."

"You know I don't get a lot of money," she softly said.

"All I need you to do," Ben had widened his eyes, "is to get a small suitcase and put some clothes and necessities into it. I'll take care of the rest."

"Ben," she had placed a hand to her head.

"It's just a precaution."

It took a long minute for her to nod in thought, "Okay. I'll get some things together."

* * *

After the blond woman unlocks the metal storage Belle notices the black luggage is gone, before she takes the beige case out and sets in on the table, "Give me a minute. Please."

When she leaves Belle opens the case and sees the cellphone in the plastic pocket, before she pulls it out and holds it in her hands. It still needs to be set up. She sees the folded, white paper, taking it out to read and follow the directions.

Some time passes before she can make the call, and when she brings the phone to her ear there's no answer. There's a voicemail. He has it set up. "Ben," she urges. "It's your mother. Please, call me." She ends the call and sets the phone down, staring at it. It's untraceable. So is Ben's. She will have no way to find him.

Immediately, she picks up the phone again. She has to get ahold of him. She lets out a pain-stricken breath and her eyes water, as she reaches the voicemail again. "Ben." Her voice raises in pitch, "Whatever happened, you can tell me. Please. I want to talk to you."


	200. I Need You

**I Need You**

 **(Day 161: Saturday Evening)**

Ben lays on his back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan spin, before he lifts the can to his lips again; however, he finds it empty, shakes it, and is only able to get a few drops before dropping it next to the others. The soda is all gone. It's abandoned him. He feels cold and empty, but the flowing air still feels nice on his warm skin. He should have revised his plan. Now that he's king he can't just leave. He can't bare going back, but he has nowhere else to turn to.

Ben hears the phone again, and after he notices the new missed call he goes to the number pad. He mumbles the number aloud, and when it's answered he comments, "Chad?" His voice his so broken, mucus clogging his airway and making it hard to breathe, before he notices the ruff feeling of salt on his face from the tears.

"Ben?" Chad concerns.

"I thought I could handle it, but I can't," his voice shakes.

"Ben. What's going on?"

He sniffles, "I think I need you."

"Where are you?" he immediately asserts, and Ben can hear him stand from some squeaky chair in the background.

"Some hotel on the outside of town." He looks over at the stand and sees the business card, "Harmony. Harmony Hotel."

"Okay," Chad seriously responds. "I'll be right there."

* * *

By the time Ben has the cans in the bin and himself halfway presentable, there's a knock at the door and he walks over to it. He opens it and sees Chad, before he softly says, "Hey."

"Could I come in?" Ben remembers to get out of the way, and after shutting the door they move to go sit on the bed. "So. What's going on?"

Ben shakes his head, "Nothing."

"You called me over here for nothing?" he doubts.

Ben wets his lips, "I guess I, uh, just needed someone to talk to."

"In person," Chad reminds him, and Ben doesn't respond. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." He half laughs, "Literally nothing."

Chad places a hand to his forehead for a second, "You feel hot. Are you sick?"

"No more than usual," he evenly states. "I already took something too, so…"

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

Ben faces him, "You're a good friend."

"I already know that," Chad points out. "Tell me something I don't know." He fails to speak, and Chad elaborates, "What's wrong?"

Ben takes a deep breath, "Okay." before he meets his greyish blue eyes and opens his mouth to admit to everything.

* * *

\- Yes, this is how the story ends. I know you hate me, and I'm going to love every minute of it. Feel free to leave a comment. I already have Behind the Dragon's Eye up, so you can go read that now. **Coming Soon** : My Name is Belle Marie, Isle Problems 2: In the Family, Side Problems: In the Pack.


End file.
